


Threads of the Past

by azure_skies



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, F/M, Memory Loss, Romance, Sarcasm, Secrets, Self-Discovery, Some Humor, Spoilers for DLC, Trespasser Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-13
Updated: 2016-08-21
Packaged: 2018-04-20 14:23:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 51,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4790567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/azure_skies/pseuds/azure_skies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Whatever she had been before, she was now the Herald of Andraste. Will she be able to collect the disparate threads of her forgotten past, or will they unravel under her new title and duties? All she had now was a green gash on her hand and a path laid before her she wasn't quite sure she was ready to take.</p>
<p>She was Now. She was Sahlin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> In order to set the stage properly I decided to start with the opening of the game. All the quotations in italics are taken directly from the game's script and are NOT my writing. They are the lovely work of the DA writing team.

I awoke with a piercing headache and an unfamiliar stabbing in my palm. I looked down, flexing my shackled hand as the strange green gash pulsed around it. Had that always been there? It certainly burned like unquenchable fire.

I squinted around the surrounding room. It was clearly a prison, though I saw no obvious guards. I could hear shouting coming through the stone walls, a chorus of varied arguments wafting in. Many were too far off to hear, but two female voices in particular came through clearly. They sounded as though they were right on the other side of the reinforced door. “We cannot hold the valley much longer like this, Cassandra. We need to consider abandoning Haven.”

“Not yet. Solas believes the prisoner will awaken soon. Hopefully she will have answers and we will be able to close the Breach.”

Another voice, this one belonging to a man, interrupted the others. “My Lady Cassandra, the prisoner has finally woken up.”

“At last we can finally see what see has to say for herself.”

The two women burst into the room. The dark haired one circled around me slowly, measuring my every twitch and movement. “ _Tell me why we shouldn’t kill you now. The conclave is destroyed. Everyone who attended is dead. Except for you._ ” She pointed an accusing finger at me.

I tried to make sense of what she said. What was this Conclave she spoke of? And everyone dead...how had I gotten here? I said nothing. I had no answer that would satisfy her. She sneered, grabbing my hand. “ _Explain this_.” It sputtered that strange green glow again. Was it familiar? I could not recall.

“ _I...can’t_ ,” I admitted.

“ _What do you mean you can’t_?”

Honesty had to be the best policy in this situation. “ _I don’t know what that is, or how it got there_.”

“ _You’re lying_!” She made to shake me, but the redheaded woman interceded.

“ _We need her, Cassandra_.” The redhead brought this Cassandra away from me before turning to face me. “ _Do you remember what happened? How this began_?”

I tried again to find any answer that might help. It was hazy...everything was hazy. A sudden sense of terror took hold.

“I don’t remember...anything. I...who am I?”

“You have lost your memory?” the redhead asked, her brows lifting in shock. I nodded.

The woman Cassandra, who appeared to have calmed down a bit, spoke then, “ _Go to the forward camp, Leliana. I will take her to the rift_.” Leliana nodded, leaving as Cassandra released me from my chains and brought me to my feet. She lead me to the so-called rift, a large green mass marring the otherwise clear sky. Looking upon it made my hand burn. Had I caused this? Did I even have the power to do such a thing? I decided to be compliant. Fighting would probably just expedite my execution, so I followed Cassandra willingly, hoping this Breach might offer a clue into who I was.

We came upon some demons and I reflexively shot one down with a blast of lightning, completely disintegrating it. I could shoot lightning. Out of my fingertips. I was apparently fairly good at it, too. That was something anyway. Cassandra dispatched the other demon then turned on me.

“You are a mage?”

I shrugged. “Is that your term for someone who can shoot lightning out of her hand? I suppose I must be then.” Being able to control primordial forces was not unusual then.

“A mage who does not know she is a mage with a strange mark upon her hand. It is hard to imagine anything more unpredictable.” She seemed to weigh the dangers in her mind. “Can you control it?”

I stretched out my powers as one expands a bowstring, reaching, but hit some kind of barrier. It felt strange. Mutable yet not; elastic yet solid. “I think so.”

“Very well. I cannot protect you. But be careful.” I nodded. I followed behind her for a while longer, picking up a discarded staff laying next to one of the deceased. Using it made controlling my abilities easier, allowing me to funnel lightning through it. I must have practiced quite a bit before losing my memory, and thankfully amnesia had not rid me of my muscle memories.

We reached a group of other people fighting. I spotted some warriors dressed in armor with the eye insignia similar to the one Cassandra wore and surmised they must be her soldiers. The two without uniforms appeared very different from the others. One was short and carried an enormous crossbow seemingly too large for his compact body. The other was clearly a mage. He shot bolt after bolt of ice from his staff, making it look easy. He glanced at me then took down the demon before me.

He appeared suddenly at my side as the short man shot down the last demon. “ _Quickly before more come through!_ ” the mage yelled. He grabbed my hand, thrusting it towards the green mist collected in front of us. What had Cassandra called it? A rift. It closed, converging into a small globe then sputtering out of existence.

I turned to this man. He studied my face for a moment, waiting for me to speak. “Is it closed? But how...I don’t remember anything.”

“You have lost your memory?” I nodded. He looked...relieved? “I see. _Whatever magic opened the breach to the sky also placed that mark upon your hand. I theorized the mark might be able to close the rifts that have opened in the Breach’s wake – and it seems I was correct_. I did not anticipate your loss of memory, however.”

Cassandra walked towards him. “ _Meaning it could also close the Breach itself_.”

“ _Possibly. It seems you hold the key to our salvation_.” I gave him a quizzical look as the other one, the short one, spoke up.

“ _Good to know! Here I thought we’d be ass-deep in demons forever_.” He adjusted his cuffs, and I noticed how out of place he looked wearing an open-chested shirt in the frozen mountains. How was he not cold? Perhaps it was some kind of magic. “ _Varric Tethras: rogue, storyteller, and occasionally unwelcome tagalong_.” He winked at Cassandra. He certainly had guts.

“ _It’s nice to meet you, Varric_.”

The mage chuckled. “ _You may reconsider that stance, in time_.”

“ _Aww. I’m sure we’ll become great friends in the valley, Chuckles_.” The other one, the mage, was apparently called “Chuckles” then.

Varric and Cassandra argued whether he could come with us. I turned to this Chuckles and I realized his ears were different than the others. They were pointed at the tips. He nodded his head in greeting.

“ _My name is Solas, if there are to be introductions. I am pleased to see you still live_.”

“ _He means, ‘I kept that mark from killing you while you slept_ ,’” corrected Varric.

“You are...” I searched for the word.

“An apostate? An elf? Yes.” The pointed ears marked him as an elf. The short stature of Varric marked him as a dwarf, a Child of the Stone. Cassandra was a shemlen, a quickling, a human. Yet what did those terms mean? His voice interrupted my attempt to grasp the seemingly disparate threads floating through my mind. “Just as you are, though technically all mages are now apostates.”

“I...what?” I reached up, running a finger along my ear. Pointed. I was an elf. “What is an apostate?”

Cassandra made a disgusted noise. “Do you truly remember nothing?” Embarrassment heated my ears. My pointed ears.

“It seems you have a great many things to learn. For now, apostates are those mages found outside the Chantry. As to what that means exactly, we can discuss that further after the threat of the Breach is dealt with.” I nodded, thankful Solas had interceded on my behalf. He turned to Cassandra. “ _Cassandra, you should know: the magic involved here is unlike any I have seen. Your prisoner is a mage, but I find it difficult to imagine any mage having such power_.”

She bobbed her head. “ _Understood. We must get to the forward camp quickly_.” With that she walked off, Solas following closely at her heels. Varric came to my side.

“ _Well, Bianca’s excited_!” He walked towards the others, and I followed behind them. I pushed the questions out of my mind, preparing for the journey ahead. For now I needed to stop the mark from consuming me. It seemed to burn hotter at the thought.


	2. They shall cry out to their false gods, and find silence

“The Herald of Andraste.” I could not remember my own name and yet I had gained a title. I was now the prophet of a god I could not recall worshiping. At least it would keep me alive for the time being. This organization – the Inquisition – was trying to put the pieces of this world back together. Even if it did not quite feel like my world, saving it had to be a good thing. Not to mention the Breach remained the only connection I had to who I was. Nor did I have anywhere else to go. Perhaps it could offer me answers to the questions permeating my mind.

I left the Chantry after confirming with Cassandra and Leliana I would stay. They had a great deal of planning to begin, but, as I had no memory of the world, I could not offer much assistance. Instead I walked across Haven to look at the Breach, climbing up on a rocky outcropping near the frozen lake. It looked quiet for now. The violent swirling that had plagued in it before had stilled, though the eerie gash in the sky remained.

“It is beautiful in its own way, is it not?” I turned to see Solas behind me, looking to the sky. I had not heard him approach.

“It is.” I looked down at my hand, activating the green scar. I glanced up to see Solas studying my face.

“Is it painful?”

“No. It seems...quiet for the moment, just like the hole in the sky. I just wish I understood how I got it, or at least that the process had not robbed me of all my memories.”

He looked at me with sad eyes. “Some memories are better forgotten.”

I pondered the idea for a moment. “Maybe. It could have left me with at least a few so I wouldn’t feel so helpless.” He laid his hand on my shoulder in a comforting way. The gesture felt familiar. “Solas, have we met before?”

“Not that I can recall. Why do you ask?” My stomach dropped.

“I don’t know. I just get this feeling I know you somehow.”

He nodded. “That feeling is most likely an echo from when I stabilized your mark with my magic while you slept. I altered the Fade around you to try to stifle its growth. Sometimes mages can identify the aura, or sense if you will, of a person when another expends mana in his or her presence.” I dropped my head slightly. So that was it. No one knew me, and in return I remembered no one. The loneliness crept into my spine. “I’m sorry I cannot offer you more. It must be difficult having lost all of your memories.”

I shrugged, shaking my head in hopes of dislodging the sinking feeling needling its way in. I tried to smile, although from Solas’s expression it had been less successful than I had hoped. The best way to combat the encroaching sentiment of desolation was to create new memories. Why not start now? I sighed. “The Fade...that is the realm the Breach connects to? You study it?”

“That I do. There are many mysteries and stories you can uncover if you know where to look. I have seen bloody battlefields littered with the bodies of those called to fight in holy war. Tell me, what sort will you wage? Will you rain down righteous fire at all those who oppose you or will you fight to restore order in a world lost to chaos?”

I chuckled. “I don’t even recall my name and now I must declare what sort of ideal I will aspire to?”

“Forgive me. Well then, what will you have us call you? The fabled ‘herald of Andraste’ sent to save us all?” I smiled. He was trying to cheer me up. It was a transparent tactic, but I appreciated it nonetheless.

“You must have a better grasp of common elf names than I do.”

He pondered for a moment, looking over my face. His eyes bore into my own, begging hidden secrets from their depths, steel blue meeting shimmering emerald. I turned away, blushing. “I may, but you have the gift to choose your own name. Would you really be content with choosing something merely because it is popular?”

“You mean I should choose something that has meaning for me?”

“Precisely.”

What was something that carried meaning for me? The only thing that came to mind was the Breach, and naming myself after something that brought so much pain and suffering did not seem appropriate. I sighed. “I suppose ‘Herald’ will have to suffice for now.”

“We can’t discover everything in a day. Even without your memories you are still you.”

“But who am I?”

Solas smiled. “I look forward to learning that myself.”

 

I retreated to the Chantry library in the days that followed, learning as much as I could about the world in which I now found myself. Had the Maker thrown me into this world? Had Andraste? Or was it the Creators, the gods the elves worshiped? All of the tales of these gods claimed they were absent, so how could I ever discover who to pray to? Or perhaps I should not pray to anyone at all.

Faith had become a very powerful motivator for our troops. It had also ostracized us from the Chantry and many vocal nobles in Orlais. The more people flocked to my feet, hoping Andraste might bless them through me, the more allies slipped through our fingers. We all hoped more would raise a banner to my visage than defile it.

Haven had grown to bursting, the small town hardly accommodating the hundreds of soldiers now under the Inquisition’s flag. It was time to rise up to the challenge presented by the Chantry, Leliana encouraging Varric, Solas, and I to accompany Cassandra to the Hinterlands. We packed a day’s worth of food and equipment, packing as lightly as we dared. Cassandra made one last look over our supplies before we set out.

“Everything seems to be accounted for. We should leave immediately if we are to make the most of the sun. We are to meet some of Leliana’s scouts in the plains to the east by sunset.”

A more somber air fell over the group as we trudged out of Haven on the backs of tired draft horses into the bitter cold of the Frostbacks. Varric cursed under his breath about the inconvenient location of the Inquisition headquarters, patting his pony every now and then in solidarity. I internally agreed with him, choosing not to annoy Cassandra further with a vocal accusation.

We walked in silence for a long time, shielding our eyes and mouths from the biting wind. Eventually we finally made it out of the snow into the plains. The devastation was awe-inspiring. Every field had been abandoned, many covered in scorch marks where crops had once thrived. Even if I did not entirely understand the situation it was plain to see people were suffering. The destruction hastened us onto our eventual destination, reaching it in early evening. Inquisition scouts led by a dwarf named Scout Harding had set up a camp. Once she had briefed us on the situation we set up our bedrolls and began preparing dinner. I noticed Solas positioned his bedroll further away from the others, preferring the open sky to a covered tent.

He was the only connection I had to a people I could not remember and a power pulsing through my veins I could not entirely control. I needed his guidance if I was to regain whatever magical prowess I had possessed before losing my memories. I had practiced a few minor spells, and the power came readily like an old friend, but they were erratic and frankly frightening. I had accidentally incinerated one of the practice dummies in the ring at Haven the day before, which did nothing to assuage the fears of many Chantry sisters that I might destroy the few buildings Haven had.

Solas noticed me looking in his direction and stopped unpacking, motioning for me to come speak with him. I stood up, swinging my arms in a nervous and ridiculous fashion, and made my way over to him. He smiled in a way that was supposed to be reassuring. I grimaced in response. One thing I had learned about myself in the last couple weeks since awakening: I hated asking for help. “It looked as though you wanted to ask something of me, Herald. How may I be of service?”

I bounced on my heels. “I...want you to teach me how to control my magic. Please.” I hoped he had understood my slurred attempt at speech.

“I would be happy to help in any way I can.”

We separated ourselves from the rest of our party. Solas gestured for me to stand in the center of a glyph he had placed upon the ground. As I stood on it I immediately felt power pooling in my veins and it became easier to see the folds in what Solas called the Veil.

“Try producing a spell. Aim a burst of lightning at the rock before you.” Mana collected in my hand, and to my surprise, it sped out in a controlled, easy motion. Solas smiled. “It seems the glyph is functioning properly.”

“What does it do?”

“When you stand upon the glyph you gain a clarity of focus that you might not normally possess. Mages who are well-practiced in spellcraft no longer require it to control their castings, but it is quite useful for teaching apprentices. I have seen it used many times in Circles during my time spent in the Fade. Now then, try another.”

I produced lightning and fire for the remainder of the evening, Solas critiquing my abilities here and there, until I no longer needed the security of the glyph. Solas stated that it was nearly impossible that I should learn control so quickly without some form of previous training, but I could not offer any insight as to where I might have received said training. Eventually he was satisfied with my progress and we returned to the others.

I watched him as he settled into his bedroll beyond the camp then returned to my own tent, wishing that I could come up with some excuse to leave the confines of the cloth as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title is taken from the Chant of Light, Andraste 7:19.


	3. Blessed are the peacekeepers, the champions of the just

We left the Orlesian capital with more questions than answers. I was trying very hard to come to terms with the Maker, particularly since apparently my people were not viewed as equals in the eyes of the Chantry. The way the Chantry mother had spit the word “elf” at me like some kind of curse had elicited a surprising amount of anger given my lack of memory. I had not decided how to face that particular battle, but for now I promised myself to read more extensively about the treatment of elves by humans once we returned to Haven.

Then there was the "Herald of Andraste" title that dogged my steps. The longer I tried to make sense of the situation, the less I understood it. Mother Giselle and I had talked until I went hoarse on the subject, and still a not insubstantial part of me refused to take the final leap of faith true belief would require. What was holding me back? Was it my lack of knowledge of the world, or was there something else at work?

It did not help that so few of my followers questioned their faith. Certainly there had been moments where Leliana seemed incredibly angry with the god that had let the Divine perish, but even she loved Andraste and the Maker to the core. Varric tried to avoid the subject all together while Cassandra would not open up to me about much of anything. She, too, believed in the Maker. Hadn’t she been part of the Chantry after all? I did not feel close enough to either the Ambassador or Commander to consider asking them.

This all left me with Solas yet again. He was increasingly becoming the only link I had to vast swaths of myself. He was the only mage. The only elf. And now, the only non-believer, or so I thought. He was insufferably vague about the gods our people were supposed to worship, choosing to question their divinity as well but not doubt their existence entirely. Honestly, sometimes talking to him made me question more rather than help me come to an answer. Had this mark on my hand really been passed onto me by a god? Or had the visions in the temple lied, and I had been the cause of this mess?

The only thing I could do was try to close as many of those rifts as possible. If it was my doing that had caused this, I would make it right. Still, I could not shake the feeling that I went directly against many of the doctrines they preached. Why would Andraste ever choose me as a messenger? I was an apostate elf living among humans without any knowledge of their world.

Cassandra slowed her pace to meet mine. We were almost to camp. “Herald, I wanted to express my gratitude to you for speaking out at Val Royeaux. I am not...comfortable giving such speeches. It is good to have another in the Inquisition who is.”

“Thank you, Cassandra. I am glad to help.”

“Was that a compliment I heard, Seeker? Careful, people will think you’re going soft.” She glared at Varric, who pretended to hide behind me. I could not help but giggle. “See, the Herald thinks I’m funny. I must be doing something right if she’s laughing at my jokes.”

“Yes your humor is most amusing, Varric.” He seemed to bring out the sarcasm in Cassandra with every word he said.

“Aw don’t be that way. Chuckles thinks I’m funny, too, don’t you?”

Solas, who had been staring at the ground most of this time, looked up. “You have a rare talent indeed, Master Tethras.”

“That’s almost a declaration of love coming from the cheery elf over there.” I laughed again.

“He is a bit gloomy, isn’t he?” I asked, casting a glance at Solas’s reaction. He seemed amused.

“A bit? I’m surprised he hasn’t fallen over with all the doom he carries around. Reminds me too much of another elf I know, well except for the whole mage thing.”

“We all have regrets,” Solas replied softly.

“Yeah but if we let them take over our lives we miss out on all the good things. Like dwarven serving girls and terrible ale.”

“As I recall Haven has some atrocious ale selections that I’m sure you could try. However, I must concede your other point.”

“It’s got to be the match set, Chuckles.”

“Ah, I see. I am certain you can find other sources of entertainment, Child of the Stone. It does seem to be a skill of yours.”

“Aw, you’ll make me blush. How about a game of Wicked Grace when we get back to camp?”

Solas’s eyebrow quirked up. “Another attempt to get me to gamble with you?”

Varric shrugged. “Can’t blame a guy for trying. How about you, Herald?”

“I don’t know how.” Was this a trap?

“Even better that way.” I gave him a disparaging look. “Okay I’ll even teach you some of the rules, how’s that?”

I smiled. “Well this coin purse Josephine gave me is getting a bit heavy.”

He rubbed his hands together then grinned at me. “No divine retribution if you lose though, deal?”

I laughed. “I’m not making any promises.” Cassandra shook her head at us but Solas barely hid his smirk. My eyes were drawn to him more and more.

I awoke the next morning with my head swimming. What on earth had Varric given me last night? He had called it Butterbile 7:84, something we had come across in the Hinterlands. At the time it had not been too bad, and after the third cup I could hardly taste it, but in retrospect it had been a terrible mistake.

I wandered out of my tent into the blaring sunlight, clutching my hand to my eyes. Was it brighter in Orlais than Ferelden? It certainly felt like it. I stumbled into the center of our campground.

We would be getting on a ship across the Waking Sea to Haven in the next couple hours and the Inquisition scouts and attendants were already taking down the campsite in preparation. Cassandra was shouting orders so I avoided her. She was just too loud for my pounding head. Varric apparently was still sleeping, although it looked like Cassandra might descend upon his tent before long. I was incredibly pleased I had already woken of my own accord. I spotted Solas near a small fire cooking some fish to break his fast. He looked up as I approached, smirking at my obvious displeasure at the daylight.

“Can I offer you some fish, Herald? Or perhaps some healing herbs might be a bit more palatable to you this morning?” His eyes were twinkling and I had the urge to punch him.

My vanity tried to coerce me into not asking for his help, but then I remembered the ship I would soon be embarking on, and the nausea came in a strong wave. I glared at him. “I’ll take the herbs, thanks.”

“I took the liberty of concocting a draught for you and Varric. It may not be as strong as I would like, but the herbs are limited here and I did not have quite enough in my pack. This will have to do.” He passed me a cup. It tasted like chalky milk, but it seemed to ease the bubbling in my stomach.

“If you had enough foresight to make this why didn’t you stop us last night?”

He looked down at his hands and a deep sadness crossed his face like a shadow, disappearing so quickly I questioned whether it had really been there. His smile resurfaced as he returned his eyes to my face. “You appeared as though you were having a good time. I did not want to take any moment of joy away from you. The last month and a half has been understandably hard. I felt you deserved a break, even if it was perhaps not the wisest way to enjoy yourself.” He chuckled. “Do you remember everything that happened?”

I had thought so until he asked me that. Was I forgetting something important? There were a few moments that were a bit...vague. “I...think so. Why? What did I do?” He returned my question with a coy smile. I tried to wrack my mind.

I was going to question him further when we heard yelling in the direction of Varric’s tent. Cassandra had evidently woken him up.

“You can’t just bully your way into a man’s tent like a human battering ram!”

“If you had woken up at a reasonable hour on your own I would not have resorted to such drastic matters! Are you still drunk? You can’t even walk straight!”

“Maybe if I was given a moment to wake up!” Solas mercifully stood up to break up the argument. I was in no state to try to mediate yet another disagreement between Cassandra and Varric. They bickered like siblings. Most of the time it was endearing but this morning my head could not take any amount of shouting. Apparently Varric’s could not either because he let Solas break up the argument with little resistance.

Solas steered Varric over to where I sat by the fire, leaving Cassandra to finish overseeing the breaking down of camp. He made sure Varric could sit upright then handed him a draught of whatever he had given me. Varric gave it a disapproving sniff.

“What’s this, Chuckles? It looks like green milk. Am I supposed to drink it?” He seemed to be in worse shape than I was, swaying this way and that.

“Yes, unless you would prefer to spend the entire journey back to Haven vomiting every few minutes.”

“No, I definitely don’t want that.” He drank it down in one gulp. “Eh, not half bad. So Herald I thought you said no divine retribution. This hangover feels an awful lot like righteous fire.”

“As I recall the Herald said she would make no promises on that account,” Solas replied, handing him another cup of the potion.

“You reap what you sow, dwarf. Plying me with alcohol to beat me? Not very sportsman of you,” I chimed in.

“I play for stories, not coin.”

“Then I’ll take back those couple sovereigns I lost to you.”

“Those?" He chuckled. "That’s the fee for the stories I told. Any good storyteller likes to be rewarded for his work.”

“Ah, I see. Well, maybe you can tell me the story of what exactly happened last night then. Solas suggested I might be forgetting some important details.”

Varric glanced at Solas then shrugged. “Sorry, can’t help you there.”

“Fine! I’ll just leave you two gentlemen to your conspiring then, shall I?”

I stood up to storm off, forgetting how hungover I still was. I fell over, Solas catching me. He placed me back onto the rock we were sharing. My head spun and I put it between my legs to slow the motion. “Wait...you…” I looked up at Solas. “You carried me to bed last night.”

He grinned. “You did not seem quite up to the task yourself. You lay your head down on a rock and insisted on sleeping there. I ensured you got a good night’s sleep on an actual pillow.”

“And so you carried me and put me to bed?”

“Yes.”

The memories of the night before were flooding back and I had the distinct impression I was turning a brilliant shade of pink. I looked immediately down at my hands, trying to think of something to say. Varric somehow managed to get up and stumbled off, mumbling something about helping Cassandra with the boat. I waited for the redness to pass then glanced up at Solas. He was still grinning. “There’s no need to be embarrassed.”

I tried to pull my body back to a normal sitting position. “I’m sorry you had to take care of me.”

He stopped grinning, looking at me with a depth of compassion and adoration I had never seen on his face before. “Tel’abelas.”

I felt the heat return to my cheeks. “Even so, you shouldn’t have had to carry me to my tent.”

Confusion flitted over his features. “You understood me?”

Was he really going to ruin a perfectly good line by asking me if I understood it? I could not help the bit of annoyance that slipped into my words. “If you’re asking if I could tell you were teasing me, then yes.”

He seemed to consider something for a moment. “I was. It looks like Cassandra is ready for us to get on the boat. Can you stand on your own?”

“I’m not sure my pride could survive being carried again.” I stood up and we headed to the boat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title taken from The Chant of Light, Benedictions 4:10  
> "Tel'abelas." = "I'm not sorry."


	4. Make me to rest in the warmest places

The trip back to Skyhold was surprisingly uneventful given the tumultuous nature of both my and Varric’s stomachs. Cassandra seemed to disapprove of our rash behavior but gave in halfway through our trip back and even cracked a smile at one of Varric’s jokes. It immediately disappeared once he pointed it out, of course. Still, there had definitely been hints of it returning afterward, and if Varric noticed he made no mention of it.

Solas had been quiet through the journey, speaking only when addressed and spending a great deal of time in his cabin. When I asked Cassandra about it she said he did that all the time. Varric suspected he was in the “weird place you people dream” during those periods he disappeared into the ship’s hold. Perhaps he simply missed his many journeys in the Fade, but I could not shake the feeling he was trying to push me away.

After explaining the situation to the other leaders of the Inquisition I made my way directly to my cottage. It seemed ridiculous they had reserved an entire one for just me, but no one would listen when I tried to offer part of it to the growing number of Inquisition recruits. The Maker’s chosen had to have her own, unnecessarily large cottage all to herself apparently. Or maybe the feared me and my untested magic.

Once I had completely rid myself of the sweat and smell of a long journey I threw on one of the various outfits Josephine had given me. The Ambassador had taken the liberty of procuring appropriate clothing for the “Herald of Andraste” while we were gone. Some of it seemed overly formal given our little rag-tag operation, but there were a few nice yet practical things there as well. This one was simpler than the extravagant gowns to be sure but still had an elegance to it that seemed out of place in this tundra.

I slipped a dagger into my belt, threw a fur cloak around my arms to keep away the cold, pulling the hood over my sensitive elven ears, and made my way towards the tavern. I desperately hoped they would have something hot to warm up my freezing body.

I slid myself inside, pulling the cloak down and brushing off the remaining snow that was growing thicker by the minute. I took a seat next to Varric, who was speaking with the one of our new recruits named Sera.

“Ugh this storm’s friggin shite, innit Herald?” She was apparently not as afraid or in awe of me as everyone else in the Inquisition, which was a welcome change.

“It is getting pretty bad out there,” I replied, motioning for some soup to be brought.

Varric passed me a mug of mead, the kind that warmed you down to the toes. Even the memory of my hangover a few days ago could not deter me from the wonderful warmth of such a drink.

“The scouts think there might be a storm coming. Curly has deployed a few troops to tie down anything that could possibly blow away.”

“No wonder it’s so packed in here tonight.”

“Yeah, everyone sane is trying to keep warm. I don’t know how the hell the elf can be walking around in it.”

“Solas was walking around in this weather?”

“Until sense finally took hold of him and he went back to his cottage. I invited him to come but he said he had ‘matters to attend to’.”

“He’s prolly got some secret elfy spells to practice or something. He’s all elfy and shite, that one. Got his arse crammed up a thousand years ago. You don’t seem too elfy though. I like that.”

“Thanks Sera. I think.”

“You elves never get along, do you?” Varric asked.

“A reference to Merrill and Fenris?”

He looked at me, surprised, then smiled warmly. “You read my book?”

“About a week ago. Solas borrowed it last I saw.”

“Wait, Solas is reading my book?”

I shrugged. “It’s a pretty good read, Varric.”

“What’d you write then?” Sera asked. “Think I heard those names somewhere before.”

“ _The Tale of the Champion_ among other things. I never thought Solas of all people would take an interest in my work, though. I wonder what he thinks of it.”

“You could ask him.”

“I could, but that would take all the fun out of guessing.”

The waitress came to deliver my soup. Varric took one look at it and frowned. “The cook added extra beef to yours. It must be nice to have a fancy title. Maybe I should get myself one, too.”

“What’d you need one for? You’re already a smug arse,” replied Sera.

“I see she’s sized you up quickly, Varric.”

He shrugged. “I may have suggested a few tweaks to increase the effectiveness of her organization.”

“We just do things. What’s so hard to get about that?”

“‘Things.’ That certainly clears it all up, Buttercup.”

“Shut it!”

“How come I haven’t gotten one of your famous nicknames yet, Varric? You’ve known Sera a day tops and she already has one. I have to admit to a bit of jealousy.”

“Pfft the Herald’s jealous of me?” She laughed loudly.

“They are in high demand. I wonder if nicknames are marketable?” Varric rubbed his chin where most dwarves had beards.

“You’re avoiding the question,” I replied.

“You noticed that?” He shrugged. “I could say it’s because I haven’t thought of a good one yet, which is true, but mostly I’m intimidated by the whole led-out-of-the-Fade-by-Andraste thing.”

“Even though I’m willing to get falling down drunk with you?”

“You got drunk with Varric?” Sera blurted out, spitting up some of her beer.

“A few days ago. I may have made some less than desirable choices.”

“Aw I’m sure Chuckles didn’t mind.”

“What happened with you and elfy?” She paused. “Wait, you and him? Better fish in the sea.”

“Or elves in the sea?” Varric asked conspiratorily.

“Yeah. Wait...what? Elves don’t live in the sea.”

“I meant...you know what? Never mind.”

“There is nothing going on between Solas and me. He’s just helping me learn to control my magic.”

Varric did not look convinced but he let it drop. I stayed with them for a while until exhaustion threatened to undo me and I retired to my room, barring the windows in hopes it might keep the snow at bay.

 

I awoke to knocking on my door. The fire had died overnight and even under layers of blankets I still felt the cold. Had it finally stopped snowing?

“Come in.”

I wiped the tiredness from my eyes, ready for whatever breakfast had been brought for me. I looked up at the person in the doorway and saw none other than Solas. I was suddenly very aware of how disheveled my hair looked in the morning and how little clothing I had on. I pulled the outer blanket up to my chin, not making eye contact.

“Um...hello Solas. Do you need something?”

He kept his eyes to the ground. He felt so distant. Was he angry about what happened the other night? Had I behaved badly? Maybe I was overthinking it. I was barely dressed after all. He could be just showing me common courtesy, yet there was a needling at the back of my mind that said there was something more.

“I apologize for waking you so early, Herald. Cassandra and Cullen have asked us to help them clear away the snow as there are so few mages in Haven.”

“Oh, of course. Did they ask Vivienne as well?”

“Yes, although she may choose a more administrative rather than active role in the endeavor.”

I laughed. “She does seem the type to find such tasks beneath her. I suppose we’ll just have to work extra hard then.”

“Indeed. I will let you dress and meet you outside when you are ready.”

I pulled on some of the warmest clothing I could find, relishing in the fur boots that I found awaiting me in my closet. I threw my cloak back over my shoulders and headed out. Solas was waiting for me as he had promised.

“Can you produce fire to melt the snow without the assistance of the glyphs?”

I turned up my palm and it produced a controlled flame. Fire was harder than lightning for me, but I was getting pretty decent at controlling it regardless. He nodded.

“Good then. We’ll go side-by-side and produce a path approximately five feet across. Are you ready?”

“Yes.”

 

We worked for a couple hours until the entire town was clear of snow. As we had assumed Vivienne had not helped but instead had overseen the removal of snow from the Chantry roof. We had worked well together, but I still felt as though he was spending time with me purely out of some sense of obligation.

“Would you care to join me for lunch?” I blurted out without thinking.

Solas looked over at me, expressionless. “I am not accustomed to dining with others. Varric or Cassandra might be a better choice for conversation.”

I shrugged. “Why do I have to care who the ‘best’ person to dine with is? I enjoy your company.”

There was a moment of silence in which I thought he would refuse. I looked down at my hands, preparing for his denial. “Very well.” My eyes returned to his face. It was still expressionless except for an almost unnoticeable quirk to his lips. “I do, however, have a request.”

“Name it.”

He barked a laugh. “Be careful who you agree to so quickly.”

“Is your request something I’ll regret agreeing to then?”

“It could be, but not today.”

“Then what is your request, Solas?” I replied in exaggerated slowness. “Better?” There was a bit of derision in my voice but he was right. That made me more perturbed.

“Yes. I am not feeling quite up to the company of humans at present. Usually I would suggest dining out of doors but the weather makes that less appealing. Do you mind if we dine in the Chantry library?”

If there was anyone who consumed more books than I did it was Solas. Other than his cottage the library was really the only place one could find him. “Alright. I suppose we should probably raid the kitchens then.”

“Before that I would like to pick up a few lyrium potions.” He gestured for me to walk beside him and headed towards Adan’s cottage.

“Lyrium potions? I thought lyrium was dangerous. Varric said as much at the Temple.”

“Forgive me, I forget at times you are still unfamiliar with the world. Red lyrium is indeed dangerous and our encounters with it in the Temple and Hinterlands are troubling.” He frowned then continued. “Regular lyrium, however, is a substance mined by the dwarves that enhances our magical abilities and connection to the primordial energy of the Fade. It can also be used to create enchantments.”

“So we what...eat it?”

“That would be unwise. Unrefined lyrium is very volatile and can kill mages. Alchemists can make a draught from its refined form that can increase our abilities and reduce our fatigue from using so much mana.”

“Is that why I feel so drained? It doesn’t feel like I should be.”

His brows furrowed as he stopped walking for a moment. He probed my face. “Fascinating. You must have quite a strong connection to the Fade. Perhaps it is a consequence of the mark.” He recommenced walking. “All mages feel some exhaustion after extended use but some have a higher threshold than others.”

“All mages? Is there a way to avoid it? I’d imagine it would be inconvenient on the battlefield.”

“It can be. The Veil only allows us so much interaction with the Fade. Lyrium potions can alleviate it some by creating small pathways for the magic to reach us but it has its limits.”

“And if there were no Veil?”

Solas smiled. “An interesting question. A great many things about this world would change. Can you imagine it, a place where the spirits of the Fade move freely between this world and the Fade and imagination defines reality?”

“I don’t know. All the information I have on spirits and the Fade comes from you and the books I’ve read in the Chantry. You paint a rather different picture than they do.”

He chuckled darkly. “Of that I have no doubt. The Chantry and its Circles have vastly oversimplified the Veil and spirits for a long time. The dichotomies so much of civilization is based upon polarize the world to its detriment, this included. My studies on ancient elven lore suggest it is much more complex than they present it.”

“How so?”

“Spirits and demons are not separate entities as the Chantry preaches but merely different representations of the same person based on our perception of it.”

“I’ve never heard anyone in the Chantry call a spirit or demon a person before.”

“Why should they not be? Do they not fit the definition of what we define as a ‘person’?”

I thought for a moment. “I have never seen a spirit before, at least since I lost my memory. Actually I haven’t been able to remember any of my dreams since the Breach. Maybe the mark is blocking them?”

“Perhaps.”

“I guess the Dalish would say the Dread Wolf was stealing my dreams.”

He chuckled bitterly. “The Dalish do love their tales. If you truly want to learn more of our people do not place much faith in their telling of history.”

“I never said I believed such stories. It is important to me to try and regain my past. Is it so wrong for me to want to learn about what it means to be an elf?”

“Of course not. Forgive my derision. The encounters I have had with the Dalish have not been particularly pleasant, but yours do not have to be.”

A moment of silence stretched between us, neither of us knowing quite how to restart the conversation. Eventually I tried to gear it back towards his original line of inquiry.

“In regards to your earlier question, it is hard to determine my feelings about spirits when all the creatures of the Fade we have encountered have been demons.”

“A fair point. Sadly those spirits were pulled across the Veil against their will by the Breach and became demons. It is a tragedy we must destroy them.”

“Then when you enter the Fade do you only see spirits if that is what you expect to see?”

Solas frowned. “I would like to say yes, but unfortunately there have been times when my nature disturbed the spirit in such a way that it became a demon. We cannot always control our emotions.”

I placed my hand on his shoulder. “That must have been hard for you. I’m sorry.” He glanced at me and smiled softly.

“Thank you, Herald.”

By this time we had collected both the lyrium potions and food and began to head towards the library in the basement of the Chantry. He sat on the ground. I joined him, handing him the remaining food, and we spoke about magic and the histories I had forgotten of the world. Eventually night fell and we returned to our cottages.

I threw the warmth spell Solas had taught me over my body then settled into my desk to look over all the missives Leliana had collected while we were gone. With the threat of the storm behind us it was time to move onto the task of closing the Breach for good.

Tomorrow I would inform everyone I would meet with the mages. The entire Inquisition did not need to agree, but a decision had to be made. I guess I was the one to make it. I tried to tell myself it was not a decision based purely on my selfish desire to meet more people like me.

The intel on the Grey Wardens disappearing given to me by Leliana was interesting. I still did not truly understand the details of that order and they were known for their secretive nature. Still, given my general lack of knowledge of the world, I could not discount any detail, even if it might implicate an apparently very important order of knights in the murder of the Divine.

For now, Redcliffe awaited us.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title taken from the Chant of Light, Transfigurations 12:1


	5. They shall find no rest in this world or beyond

“Solas dear, was Redcliffe not an excellent example of how reckless mages act when they are left with no oversight? Even you must see the danger there,” Vivienne asked once we had left the village.

“What I see are terrified children praying the magisters won’t deem them too weak and throw them out into the cold.”

“Fiona made a terrible error asking for Tevinter’s assistance. For all the uproar she made over independence from the Chantry she certainly gave it away quickly.”

“While I will agree she was foolish, sometimes we must sacrifice to save. There is not always a right answer, Enchanter.”

“Oh yes there is, darling. Keeping the Circle in place was most certainly the right answer. Even Fiona must think it was preferable to whatever ghastly deal she made with that magister.”

“Will you two please stop bickering?” I yelled, turning to them.

“Maker’s balls, thank you for that Herald!” shouted Blackwall. “They’re like a couple of mabari fighting for a bitch.”

“Oh how eloquent darling! If comparing me to a dog is the best you can do you really must spend more time among the nobility. You can learn all sorts of new words.”

“You may take me for a simpleton but at least I try to do good for those other than myself.”

“Enough,” I interceded before Vivienne could come up with another retort. “Let’s make camp. It’ll be dark soon.”

We began unrolling our bedrolls while Blackwall went to collect firewood. Vivienne and Solas were thankfully finally quiet so I took the time to think. Magister Alexius could turn out to be quite the threat. The idea of a foreign power on our doorstep did not sit well with me. This news would undoubtedly result in further arguing on the part of our leaders. Still, perhaps I needed it in order to convince the others to intercede. Solas was right, there were definitely innocent children at risk here, not to mention how dangerous the magic Alexius was using could become if we let him continue using it.

 

We reached Haven the next day, Cassandra rushing up to us as we made our way towards the gate. “How did it go?” Leliana slinked out of the shadows as well, walking on my left side. Was this how the Divine used to feel, pinned between her left and right hands?

“The mages have given themselves into the service of a magister.”

“What?” Cassandra exclaimed. “That’s madness!”

“There must be a good reason,” interceded Leliana.

“Surely you cannot believe the Inquisition should join them after that, Leliana.”

More arguing. It was getting tiring. “Please just listen.” They nodded and fell silent. “Fiona said it was the only option to protect themselves from the Templars.” Cassandra looked like she might speak but I continued. “But that is not the only problem. Apparently the magister in charge, Alexius, is part of a Tevinter supremacy cult called the Venatori. According to his son they came to the south for me.”

“You?” Leliana asked. “But why?"

“Either for my title or the mark on my hand. My guess is the latter. Alexius is using some sort of time magic that seemed to interact with the rifts somehow.”

“Time magic? I have never heard of such a thing,” said Cassandra.

“It is certainly not something taught in the Circles, I can assure you, my dear,” replied Vivienne.

“Dorian said it was wildly unstable. It could pose a serious problem if left unchecked.”

“My dear Herald, be cautious how much trust you place in that man,” Vivienne said.

“Dorian?” asked Leliana.

“Another mage,” replied Blackwall. “There have been quite a few of them on this trip.” Blackwall had put up with a lot. I would have to make it up to him later.

“He used to be Alexius’s apprentice. He said his family name is Pavus if you’re planning to have your agents piece together his whole life story,” I added.

“I am. We should speak to Josephine and Cullen.”

We made our way to the Chantry. Cassandra and Leliana continued their disagreements, but it felt like Cassandra might be relenting. She could see the danger Alexius posed. Now it would just take convincing Cullen, whose loyalties to the Templar Order superseded even the Seeker’s.

Cullen and Josephine were in the room we had declared the “war room” discussing some noble. They stopped abruptly once we entered. “Welcome back, Herald,” Josephine greeted politely. “Was your trip successful?”

“Disturbing might be a better choice of words,” I replied.

“I see.”

I explained the situation to them, stressing unity but mixing in a bit of nudging where necessary. It was not solely my decision how we proceeded, but my wishes had become an integral part of the Inquisition’s actions. I was becoming a symbol for our troops. It was only a matter of time until those troops would seek my guidance.

Dorian joined us the next day, pushing aside a guard to get into our little war room. He would help us get into the castle. Now all we needed was a little luck.

Solas and Cassandra joined us on our journey to Redcliffe. I hoped my decision to take two other mages along this time would not degenerate into bickering as it had on my last trip to the Hinterlands. I found, however, that was an overly optimistic hope.

“So Solas, before you gave that whole woodsman thing of yours a go, where did you live?”

“Why?”

“Just trying to understand why an apostate elf would join the Inquisition with so many templars roaming about.”

“Perhaps for the same reason a mage from Tevinter might join.”

“Yes, but I’m charming.”

“I shall just have to take your word for it.”

The arrival of rogue templars saved Solas from further prodding. I had yet to get used to fighting the anti-magic warriors. Their ability to temporarily severe the connection to the Fade that I had been slowly cultivating with Solas terrified me. It was as if I was thrown into an ice-cold lake every time they shot me down with their righteous shouts.

This time was no different. The leader bellowed in the air, a wave of white light choking out my magic. I stood powerless for a few moments, spots dotting my eyes. I vaguely saw Dorian wore a similarly blank expression, although I was grateful it had not knocked me to the ground like it had for our new mage recruit. Undoubtedly he had little experience with templars living in Tevinter his entire life.

Thankfully Solas had seen the smite coming and had Fade stepped to safety. He threw a barrier around Dorian and I, dispelling the dense air that pushed at my vision. My mana returned, a pleasant tingling moving out through my fingertips through the rest of my body. I shot down the templar leader, electrifying his metal armor. He twitched, falling to the ground, dead.

The other two were still a threat. Cassandra was engaging the other sword and shield warrior, drawing her away from us with seemingly endless taunts. Solas supported Cassandra with some well-placed ice spells, inhibiting the templar from moving as she wished. Dorian had finally gotten up and had started taking his revenge out on the archer, shooting fireball after fireball at him. The archer strafed back and forth fairly effectively but not quite well enough. The fourth fireball hit him in the shoulder, scorching his firing arm. I took advantage, mimicking Dorian and taking the archer down with a fireball squarely on his chest. Dorian shot me a grin as the Cassandra cut down the last templar.

Solas and Cassandra rejoined us soon after. “So, those are the famous templar techniques, huh?” Dorian asked.

“It’s more fun down here in the south, right?”

“Hah! Knocking you onto your back is tame compared with the techniques magisters use against those who cross them.” He paused briefly then returned to his newfound amusement. “So back to my earlier question, Solas. Where did you live?”

Solas sighed. “Why am I the one to whom you direct these questions?”

“Well, for one, you know how dreadful those templar abilities are. Cassandra might decide to smite me if I bother her too much.”

“I have not yet eliminated that option,” Cassandra replied.

“See what I mean? And the Herald has no memory so asking her questions about her life is rather dull,” he explained, looking over at me and adding, “No offense.”

“None taken,” I replied, happy I was not the one being probed for information. Not that I had much to offer.

“That leaves me with you, Solas.”

Solas shook his head, conceding. “I traveled from place to place, seeking out new areas of the Fade.”

“And you’re not Dalish.”

“No, I am most certainly not Dalish.”

“But you must have learned your techniques somewhere.”

“Must I have? With practice any child can learn to control his or her gifts given enough time and concentration.”

“Yes, but what child has the will to do that?”

“How will we ever know if this world locks them away before they can even try?”

“We don’t do that in Tevinter.”

“No, you teach them to summon spirits and bind them to your will.”

“And you don’t, I take it.”

“I do not.” Solas’s tone brokered no continuation of that conversation. We enjoyed the silence for a while, making camp.

Cassandra and I built a fire, Solas retiring to his tent to visit the Fade. Dorian sat down on a rock near the firepit, turning his nose up at the food he found in his pack.

“Is this dried goat meat?” He sniffed it derisively. “It smells terrible.”

“I am sorry we cannot afford the extravagances you are used to in Tevinter, Dorian. Perhaps you should return there,” Cassandra replied.

“Trying to get rid of me already? That would mean losing this devilishly handsome face, you know.”

“That would be tragedy. I do not trust you, Dorian. You are a Tevinter mage who I know nothing about. Would you honestly act any differently were you in my place?”

“Perhaps not, but I’m afraid you’re stuck with me at least until this plan of yours plays out.”

“Wonderful.”

“I’m feeling an awful lot of hostility towards the man offering to risk his hide to help you out, Herald. Are your companions always so hospitable?”

“Hardly ever. They seem to have taken a certain shine to you, Dorian.”

“Lucky me.”

We followed Solas soon after eating our fill, all anxious for what we might face in the morning.

 

We returned from Redcliffe with a new alliance with the mages. It had caused some strong anger among my companions, not that I could entirely blame them after what the mages had done. Others seemed relieved I had let the mages keep their freedom. Either way, the Inquisition had to honor my alliance now that I had spoken it in front of Fereldan royalty.

Dorian seemed remarkably unaffected by the events that had taken place in that future world but I found I could not brush it off so easily. My companions had sacrificed themselves for me in that world. No matter how I tried, I could not shed the image of those red eyes. It clung to me like a chill on the breath. I could not fail. That world could never come to pass.

I was thankful Dorian had taken it upon himself to explain what had happened in that future world. I could not bear speaking of it, not yet. Instead I retreated to where it had all began, the Temple of Sacred Ashes. I knew it was foolish to return here unaccompanied. The Breach was indeed in stasis, but it could still erupt at any moment. Despite the danger, I could not stay in Haven while my mind swam with the images of their sacrifices.

I sat outside the temple proper, staring at the Breach. Why had this happened? Why had so much of this world fallen into chaos? How could this Elder One so easily amass an army to extend his reach over all of Thedas?

This world was on the brink of destruction. Would we plummet into the darkness or could we somehow find a way to combat a would-be god?

I was tired of watching people die. I was tired of people looking to me for some sort of answer to their unasked question. I had no cure for their burdened hearts. I had no comfort to offer them in their grief. I was merely making this up as I went along. Was that good enough for whatever force had put me here?

Time passed. The shadows around me lengthened until dusk spread across the sky.

I heard the sound of footsteps crunching in the snow, and I looked up to Solas’s face. Somehow I had known it would be him. I nodded in solemn greeting as he sat down beside me.

“Cassandra is worried about you.”

“I just needed some time away from everyone.”

“Do you wish to speak of it?”

I sighed. “No, but I think I have to.”

He nodded in understanding. “Did you actually travel through time, or was it an illusion of the Fade?”

“I don’t know, but even if it wasn’t real it certainly felt like it was.”

“Dorian told us of your experiences. It must have been difficult to see everything you had fought for crumble before you, but that world never has to be.”

“You died for me.”

“And I would again. From what I understand that future was an abomination that should never come to pass, and none of the rest of us were able to stop it. You really do hold the key to our salvation after all.”

I laughed hollowly. “Thank you for laying that out for me.”

“You cannot doubt yourself now.” He looked up to the Breach. “Success is the only option. We must close the Breach.”

“Sometimes it is hard to know what to do in the face of so many obstacles.”

“I know.”

We sat in silence for a long time, staring at the hypnotic swirling of the green mass before us. Eventually I spoke.

“Solas, how do you say ‘now’ in our language?”

He cocked his head to the side, inspecting my face. “Sahlin.”

“‘Sahlin’...I think I’ll choose that as my name. I thought a lot about what you said, that my name should have meaning. I have spent so much time since the creation of the Breach trying to figure out who I was before, but Redcliffe showed me I need to start focusing on who I am now and what I can do to change the future. I cannot dwell on the past forever.”

I turned to look at him, my heart hammering in my chest. If he rejected my name I would be devastated. I waited for the sword to drop, but to my surprise his eyes were soft and a sad smile even played on his lips. “It is a fine choice.”

“But you focus so much on the past. I thought you’d disapprove.”

“We all have regrets that plague us, except for you. To live uninhibited by your demons is a gift not to be squandered. You can be objective and make decisions when others might flounder. It is right that you embrace it, Sahlin.”

I smiled at his use of my chosen name. If I could win over Solas then the others did not seem so intimidating. Perhaps Sera might object given her abhorrence of all things elven that fully escaped me but frankly her opinion would always be that I was too “elfy” anyway.

“I suppose it would be wrong for me to ask you what demons you carry with you.”

“We were all young once.”

“I guess so. Maybe I’m lucky I lost my memories after all.”

“Perhaps you are.”

 

The mages arrived a day later to assist us in closing the Breach. It was now or never. There would still be this Elder One, but at least we could eliminate one threat.

Our forces were made ready. We did not know precisely what would happen should our plan fail, but it would undoubtedly be astronomically bad. My mind kept returning to the Breach that had consumed the sky in that terrible future. What happened if I actually made it worse? I still did not really understand how to use the Anchor. It responded to me when I wished it, but we still did not know where it came from or its original purpose. It was an untested variable, just as the apostate elf who had lost all her memories was.

Solas and Cassandra stood beside me as I led the others to the ruins of the temple. Many of the mages had not seen the Breach up close and looked terrified by its mere existence. Solas had told me that the Circle teaches all mages to fear spirits. No wonder they feared the tear that spewed them out en mass.

“Cassandra,” I said. She looked over at me. “If something goes wrong, if somehow I get possessed by one of those demons, I am leaving it in your hands to strike me down.”

She looked surprised. Even Solas looked up from the ground, searching my face. Whatever he found there, his expression remained unreadable.

“Promise me.”

She hesitated. “Very well. I promise, but it will not come to that Herald.”

I hoped my smile was reassuring but it probably came out more like a grimace. “Thank you.”

We made it to the Breach and I found there was a knot in my throat.  This had all started with the Breach. When it was closed, what would happen to me? Would my memories return? Would I disappear, my purpose fulfilled?

Solas sensed my unease. He gave me an uninhibited smile. “Do not doubt, Sahlin.” I nodded. I emptied my mind of questioning thoughts, looking up at the swirling tornado. “Are you ready?” he asked.

“Yes.” Cassandra nodded, turning towards the mages behind us. It had begun.

I reached out my hand, releasing the energy. It was a needle trying to knit the weave, pulling my magic out as its thread. My hand burned with scorching heat, tighter, tighter. Then the power came through me. Waves of mana flowed through my blood, intermingling with my own. I pushed. It sputtered, a shield against a tsunami. And then it stopped.

Light flooded the cavern as a shockwave pushed us onto our backs. The mark fizzled out, cooling like coals taken from a fire. Cassandra came to me, offering her hand. “You did it.”

Cheers erupted all around us. I had done it. The Breach was finally closed. I looked over to Solas. He bowed his head to me, smiling. And then a huge grin spread across my face. We had won this battle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title take from the Chant of Light, Transfigurations 1:2


	6. Bare your blade and raise it high

We returned to Haven and celebrations ensued. We had earned a respite from saving the world, at least for tonight. But, alas, fate was never kind. The Elder One had come, and he had brought the Templar Order with him.

They came in droves, wave after wave washing over Haven’s defenses and leaving fire in their wake. We had an army to be sure, but these men were no longer men at all. They had become something more, something twisted. A red hunger burned at their flesh, swam through their veins. They had been corrupted.

My companions and I spread out through the town, fighting off as many as we could and loading the trebuchets. I was very grateful for Cullen’s foresight in commissioning them. At least we could attempt to drive away the hordes that fell upon our defenses.

Iron Bull took down the last of the red templars surrounding the final trebuchet. “What the hell’s wrong with them?” he asked, coming over to help me with the wheel.

“Red lyrium. They look just like the others did in that possible future.”

“Shit. Glad we stopped that from happening then.”

“Did we?” Solas asked. “It appears we did not stop all of this Elder One’s plans.”

“Oh don’t be so cynical, Solas. The Elder One only has an army of corrupted templars with gigantic crystals growing out of them. Nothing to worry about,” replied Dorian dryly.

We released the trebuchet. It hurled towards the mountain, crashing in a huge explosion of snow. An avalanche was descending. We might actually survive this.

And then came the dragon. It destroyed the trebuchet in one fell swoop, screeching a terrible sound that chilled me to the bones. My head felt like bursting. The others looked the same, clutching their heads as the beast flew off. It was headed towards the bulk of our troops. I only hoped they could hold off in time for...something.

“A fucking dragon? This asshole’s got style, I’ll give him that. How are we supposed to fight it?” Bull asked.

“Excellent question. For now, we follow it.”

“You do have a plan, I hope,” Dorian mused. I gave him a shrug. “Ah, well that’s good then.”

“Come on.”

 

We regrouped at the Chantry, saving all those we could and bringing them inside. We could not defend against this beast. We would have to escape Haven.

Chancellor Roderick was dying, but he could still lead them to safety. I could still save a few of them. If this Elder One wanted me, he would get me.

 

I threw down the handle of the trebuchet, snow engulfing the entire town. I was falling. Was I going to survive this? It did not matter. My mission had been completed. I only hoped they would get out alive, that my sacrifice had not been in vain.

Darkness took me. I lay in shadow for what seemed like ages. Was this death? Why was my hand burning?

“Do not give in.” Who was there? Was it Andraste? “Fight.”

I opened my eyes slowly. The brightness of the world overthrew my pounding head and weary eyes. I was not dead, not yet, but the coldness threatened to undo me any moment. I tried to pull mana to my fingertips and envelop myself in warmth, but it was no use. I was too weak. I would freeze to death if I did not find fire soon.

I forced myself to rise. Every part of my body screamed at the exertion, specks of light obscuring my vision. I shook my head clear, dislodging the blurry lines and squinting at my surroundings. I was in an abandoned mine shaft. It had to have an exit somewhere.

I moved ahead slowly, my feet numb, until I came upon a rift. Despair demons spewed from it, turning to me and staring with the voids where their faces should be. There was no way I could survive a direct attack from all four of them. I could hardly lift my fingers, never mind summon offensive magic.

“Reach,” the voice said.

I reached out my arm instinctively, the sputtering anchor blazing to life. A small rift formed in the center of the room, pulling all of the demons within it. Magical energy filled me, and suddenly I could see the stitching of the Veil. Whispers tickled the back of my mind. The Chantry was wrong. It was not a veil at all, but a membrane separating what once was one. Porous. Alive?

I closed the rift the demons had come from.

And then, silence fell. The whispers no longer reached me, trapped behind the curtain. I had forgotten something very important. What was it?

Raw power spread out to my extremities from the mark, interlacing with my skin, my spirit. Mana flowed through my blood, a river of unquenchable fire waiting for a moment to burn everything around me. I breathed in deeply, collecting my newfound power into a corner of myself. The mark sizzled, but I willed it to submit to me and it quieted. The blaze subsided.

I created a barrier to keep the warmth in easily this time. Energy had returned to me, but there was still the fact I was in the middle of a snowstorm. I had to find the others.

The snow was falling heavily outside the mine shaft, blocking out any moonlight that might lead me to my destination. I shielded my eyes, scanning the horizon. A fire pit. They had been here.

I trudged on but the snow was getting thicker. Soon it would reach my hips and I would be unable to walk further.

Then they found me. I could rest. I had made it. I collapsed.

 

I awoke to the sound of yelling. They were arguing, again. This was not getting any easier, and I was so tired of fighting. Whatever Corypheus was, he surpassed any of us. Not to mention his army of red templars. This task had started to look impossible.

Mother Giselle tried to make it better. She tried to soothe the aching in my soul, but all I felt was lost. Doubt pervaded my mind, mocking every stray thought that flitted through it. What could we possibly do against an ancient Tevinter darkspawn?

And then, she began to sing. I had never heard the words before, but it did not matter. They knew it. It flowed through the air around us, filling the heart with hope where none could be found. This fight might be futile, but the dawn would still come across the horizon.

I felt like a pretender wearing the garb of a disciple as I stood before them. I could not be the prophet they wanted. This was not my religion. This was not my Inquisition. They wanted to hand the responsibility to me because I had saved them, but did they not know I was as lost as they were? Perhaps even more so? This world still felt foreign to me, and it was a feeling I could not shake.

 

“So we are going to an abandoned fortress?”

Solas and I had scouted ahead to locate this place he said awaited us. It could be the advantage we needed, the kindling to feed the flame of faith the humans had put in my care. We were elves at the mercy of men, and given the new discovery of this orb it seemed only a matter of time before they turned on us.

He slowed for me to meet him. “The humans built the fortress, but the land was a holy place to the ancient elves long before its construction. ‘Where the sky was held back' is a sanctuary for the weary in a world surrounded by ice. You will understand once we get there.”

“And you found it in the Fade?” Was his knowledge limitless? How had he possibly acquired so much of it in one lifetime?

“I did.”

“How?”

“I looked.”

“That’s an exceedingly helpful answer, Solas.”

He chuckled. “As I told you once before, Sahlin, there are many treasures to find in the Fade if one merely takes the time to look.”

“I wouldn’t know.”

“It is a tragedy that you are unable to enter it in dreams. I have been trying to discover the reason, but have been unsuccessful thus far. Your assumption it was a consequence of the mark may be the case.”

“Or I was punished for walking in the Fade physically. That’s what some of the Sisters started spreading around once they heard I couldn’t dream, anyway.”

“If you are indeed the ‘Herald of Andraste’ how could their Maker punish you for such a thing?”

“A mystery for the ages.”

We were quiet for a long time, trudging through the freshly fallen snow. It was peaceful here in an empty sort of way. Eventually Solas spoke.

“I am...pleased you survived the battle. Risking yourself for the sake of others is an admirable quality, but it would have been a shame to lose you.”

“You mean lose the mark on my hand.”

“The mark is important to preserve, yes, but losing you would be a worse fate, lethallin.”

Heat settled comfortably in my cheeks. “Thank you.”

After about a day’s journey we arrived at our destination. It was magnificent. The ages had not been kind to the structure, but it still stood out as a beacon of hope for those lost in the whitewashed wilderness as we were.

“Skyhold,” Solas announced.

“A fortress? For me?” I asked, masking my awe in humor.

He smirked. “Every army needs a home.”

“It is an enormous one. Are you sure we need it all?”

“You will. You have become a beacon in the darkness. Soon the people will flock to you, hoping you can offer them shelter from the coming storm.”

“Corypheus.”

“Yes. His plans may have failed at Haven, but he will make a resurgence before long. You need to be ready.”

“We will be.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title taken from the song The Dawn Will Come
> 
> lethallin = friend or kin (literal translation something along the lines of "of safety and blood" or "safety of the blood")


	7. All before me is shadow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trespasser spoilers!

“It seems you have conveniently helped us once again, Solas,” Cassandra remarked as we entered the crumbling gateway.

“I am glad that my knowledge from the Fade can help the Inquisition.”

“It certainly seems fortuitous.”

I had to agree with her that Solas locating the fortress did seem a bit strange. Then again, I had no memory of the Fade. Perhaps it was normal for spirits to volunteer such information.

Entering this place felt almost like coming home. The air licked at my wounds from the fight with Corypheus as my muscles pulsed with newfound strength. My mind felt like wandering into the depth of my imagination here. Was this what Solas had meant when he had said I would understand?

“There’s power here,” Dorian remarked as he followed us in. “What did you say the ancient elves used it for, Solas?”

“I didn’t. The voices of the Fade were not precise.”

“No, of course they weren’t. That’d be much too helpful.” He sighed. “Well, it’s certainly more majestic than Haven ever was.”

“Too big,” Sera added. “Looks like a place for people who wipe their arses with gold.”

“Perfect for Dorian then,” Varric replied.

“My arse does enjoy a bit of gold now and again.”

“I bet that’s not all,” Iron Bull remarked behind Dorian.

“That’s…” His voice got lost in his throat.

“Boorish is the word you’re searching for, dear,” Vivienne supplied.

“Sorry, ma’am,” Iron Bull replied quickly.

She nodded, looking around at the buildings. “Now this we can work with. It has more potential than Haven, albeit more remote. And that stonework will have to be fixed. I’m certain the Ambassador and I can find way to overcome such shortcomings. Yes, you did surprisingly well, Solas dear.”

“As always I am astounded by your generous praise.”

“That is generous, darling.”

“Well, it’s defensible at least,” Cullen added. “I’ll have my soldiers begin moving away the rubble immediately.”

 

Skyhold began to look less like a ruin and more like a fortress in the days that followed. Once I had been proclaimed the Inquisitor people started flocking to our banner in droves, elves and humans alike. I tried not to let the burden of the title change the structure of our operation, but it was impossible to avoid entirely. We were becoming an army.

Solas had been right. Surviving Haven had changed our organization entirely, had changed me entirely. I had become more than just a woman to my people, more than just a pair of pointed ears leading a group of humans. I had transcended whatever I had been before. Was it Andraste they saw when they bowed their heads and averted their eyes?

I had been forced to accept the fact that my new title demanded I acquiesce to some of Josephine’s requests. I was given the largest bedroom in Skyhold, which was soon littered with incredibly elaborate furnishings and wall hangings. She stuffed the closet with fancy clothing that dripped impracticality, but I tried to humor her and wear some of it around Skyhold.

Now that I had an excessively large room complete with frilly drapes I had to accept it was time to hire an actual handmaiden. Josephine assigned me another elven woman who looked a bit older than I. She had been trained by a prestigious family in Orlais, and Josephine assured me Leliana had fully inspected her record for any blemishes. Her name was Shania, a city elf name I was led to believe. We got along well, and I was surprised how natural having a handmaiden felt. It was almost familiar in some strange sense.

Time passed in our wintry fortress, and soon Hawke and Fenris appeared to offer insight into the whereabouts of the missing Wardens. Cassandra was furious with Varric, but to be honest it was reassuring to have another person who had been thrust into a role she did not want.

 

I was falling. We were not going to make it. The Inquisition would be finished and Corypheus would destroy the world in his lust for power. What else could I possibly do but let the darkness take me?

I heard the voice in my mind, begging me to open my eyes and fight. “Use the Anchor.”

I reached out my hand, the mark sputtering into life of its own will. A spark of light shot out of my hand and suddenly the Fade unfurled in front of me, a stitching in the fabric breaking loose. We were falling into the realm of dreams.

 

We all watched as my final memory fell into place. It had not been Andraste but Justinia who had saved me from the fear apparitions. She had allowed me to escape. I was not the Herald of Andraste, I was merely Sahlin.

Hawke and Stroud began to argue again. I was about to speak, to tell them this was neither the time nor the place, but a thrumming had started at the back of my mind. I could not make out the words around me, just a thumping and a slight prickling sensation at the back of mind. My eyes were closing. “Inquisitor! Sahlin!” Who was speaking? Where was I?

Blackness took me. And then images. So many images. My memories washed over me in waves.

_Elves. So many elves. And crystal spires. A face. Solas, but not only Solas. Fen’Harel. He smiles at me. I am naked in his arms and we lie by a pond of light. Ar lath ma. Guards and a place to call my own. My parents give it to me. My own realm. A prison. Solas teaches me how to turn into an animal. A small girl laughs in glee at the Trickster. A cross mother._

_Time passes. A key opens the prison. Elegant dresses and golden jewelry. I dance with Solas under the starlight. A ball. Rulers who become gods. The rebel god reaches out his hand. We are the traitors._

_We free their faces. They can decide their own fate. All New, Faded for Her. Can we save them from themselves?_

_She is betrayed. What have you done? No, she cannot die! The Dread Wolf chases him away. Andruil summons her hunting party. They cannot have me. A hiding place. I must find shelter. I must save at least a sliver. I slip into the Fade as she slips from my grasp. A cold curtain descends. Darkness. Emptiness. I am trapped._

_The world passes on, forgotten. Voices, language. A mush of words, not of the People, harsher. The shemlen speak it. Common Tongue. A string pulling me out of the darkness. Familiar magic. An orb._

My magic came flooding back as the anchor flared. I was whole again. The Veil kept some of it hidden, like looking through a foggy glass, but I was complete. The warmth of familiar mana trickled through my veins, embedding its way into my flesh. I heard the song, far off, beautiful and enchanting. It sang of possibilities and a time when things were different. I took a breath, forcing my aura to collapse into tight ball and tucking it into the cavity of my chest. I would have to hide it for now.

I opened my eyes to steely blue. Solas. Too many feelings. “Are you hurt, Sahlin?”

I could not bring myself to speak yet. Elvhenan, Arlathan. Gods who were not gods. I vaguely noticed that Solas had brought me slowly to my feet. I swayed for a moment, Cassandra and Cole running to my side.

“I am...alright.” Did it come out in Common? They seemed to understand.

“Too many memories. I am not now. She slipped from my grasp in the darkness. She died because of me.”

“Please Cole.” I hoped my tone was not too cross. He only wanted to help.

“Do not blame yourself for the Divine’s death, Inquisitor. You could not have saved her, and she could not have saved us from Corypheus. She wanted you to live,” Cassandra said.

She did not understand but I appreciated the sentiment nonetheless. I was also grateful for how much she misunderstood. Solas looked a bit more skeptical, he had undoubtedly felt the ripple my magic returning had caused in the Fade after all, but I could not be sure he entirely understood either.

I put on as best a mask as I could fashion. “Thank you. I am better now. Let us proceed. We need to get out of here before the Nightmare descends on us.”

 

We marched on as I tried desperately to pull the disparate thoughts flowing through my mind together. There were so many memories to sift through. Now was not the time. This was entirely the wrong place to show any hint of weakness.

I shoved all my feelings into the hollow within my chest where my magic swirled. There would be time for sorting them both out.

Stroud stood behind as Hawke and I made our way out of the Fade. It was not the easiest or even best choice, but Hawke had shown a disdain for the way the Wardens had acted that Stroud had lacked. They were his people, but right now the Wardens needed the voice of a mage who disagreed with them.

I felt empty as I tried to justify the decision to the Wardens. Who was I, a remnant of an ancient empire long since dust, to decide the fate of this world?

What would the others do if threw down the mantle of Inquisitor? Cassandra could fill the seat just as easily as I could. I could drift off into uthenera and forget the shemlen war. I wanted to weep. I wanted to scream.

No, I carried the mark. I could not yet abandon them to their fate. Whatever world these shemlen had created for themselves, I was a part of it. As was the Dread Wolf. The elves of this age did not understand him at all. Had he really locked away the Evanuris?

My people were lost. These ghost children were just a fraction of what the elves once were, empty vessels who knew not what they lacked. They were wanderers. They were slaves. They were pariahs, urchins, children begging for food. For knowledge. All of this because of the Veil? Had it taken so much from the elves?

I talked very little for the trip back to Haven. There was bittersweet air floating around us. We had won, but we had also lost many along the way. I allowed the others to attribute my solemn silence to the death of Stroud. Now that I knew the truth of my past I had a hard time seeing their faces as more than wraiths. Or perhaps I was the ghost, haunting a time on which I had no claim.

Solas and Cole left me to my thoughts throughout the journey. Even Cassandra seemed content to let me grieve on my own, but Cullen could not help his tendency to try too hard to make me smile.

He brought his horse next to mine, bowing his head.

“Inquisitor.”

“Hello, Commander.”

“I, um, wanted to know if there was anything I could do. You seem...distant.”

I forced a smile. His intent was kind, if misplaced. “I appreciate the sentiment, Cullen, but I doubt there is much you can do. It seems every time we try to fix one hole we discover yet another crack in the world.”

“You made a decision, as you always manage to do. I don’t endorse any of the actions taken by the Wardens, but they would have made a strong addition to our forces. Still, summoning demons is a transgression I can never forgive. Exiling them was the right choice.”

“They did what they believed was right. Sometimes we do things that seem like the best choice at the time but find they have consequences we could not foresee. We are all slaves to our vanity.”

“It is easy to overestimate your capacity to overcome challenges, yes.” He looked distant for a moment. “There are times when I regret some of the things I did in the Order. They haunt me still.”

I reached over and patted him on the shoulder. “We cannot change the past.”

“No, we can’t.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry, Sahlin. I intended to make you feel better but ended up speaking of myself.”

I laughed. Did he hear the hollowness? “There’s no need to apologize. I’m alright, it’s just a lot to take in. Just give me a little time and I’ll be just as energetic as usual.”

He chuckled. “I look forward to it. I guess I’ll just leave you to your thoughts then.”

“Thanks.” After that no one else tried to question me about the events at Adamant for the remainder of the journey to Skyhold. I suspected Cullen had strongly discouraged them from bothering me.

 

Once we returned to Skyhold I retreated to my quarters. Nowhere in Skyhold was really safe to mull over my feelings in solitude, but at least no dignitaries would stumble upon me in there. I changed out of my armor, sending it off to be cleaned, and bathed for as long as I could stand it until crawling into bed. Surprisingly, I fell asleep easily.

_“Have your parents finally relented and let you out of your cage, little sun?” Solas asked. He wore a magnificent dark green robe with the fur of a wolf unfurled across his shoulders. His long hair was held back, strung together with golden threads._

_“I have you to thank for that, Solas. It took a great deal of convincing, but I am even allowed to come to such things as balls now. Quite the achievement, is it not?”_

_He laughed unreservedly. “It is indeed.” His eyes fell to the necklace he had given me. “It looks lovely on you.”_

_“Thank you. It seems to be keeping my magic at bay for the moment. I am unsure how you persuaded my father this would work, but you have my eternal gratitude.”_

_“Then may I make a request?”_

_“Of course.”_

_“Dance with me.” He held out his hand, eyes falling on us from all directions. I took it easily._

_“I would like nothing more.”_

_He led me onto the crystal dancefloor, circles of purple light appearing where we stepped. Many of the eyes followed us as he placed his arm on my waist._

_He swept me up in the dance, moving with a grace few men possessed. He twirled me here and there, guiding me warmly with his magic. It laced through my legs and directed me where to step. It was an intimate act, a secret desire hidden in a room filled with people._

_Dirthamen spotted us, passing me a quizzical look. They had not told him who had sprung me from my elegant prison, then. He would certainly have quite a few questions when this night was over._

_“They are all staring at me.”_

_“Of course. Not only are you a mysterious new addition to their little game, but you are dancing with the rebellious ruler who always does the unexpected.” Wild energy sprang on his skin and suddenly everyone had turned away. He chuckled darkly. “I do enjoy the playing the part they have given me.”_

I awoke with a start. I had dreamed. The lock that had kept me from the Fade was finally broken. Whatever had stopped me before, gaining the memories in the Nightmare’s realm had been enough to severe it.

We had been so young, Solas, cocky and arrogant and I, passionate and naive. That had been before he was called a god, before we tried and failed to save the Elvhen people. Before greed had morphed Elvhenan beyond recognition.

I rose in a daze, choosing to avoid my friends and associates by fleeing to my library. It was the only place in Skyhold I could really call mine - my quarters favored Josephine and Leliana’s taste more than my own. Once I entered that place, the feelings started flooding in.

Memories surfaced, overwhelming my mind until I had to sit down. I oscillated between anger and sadness. Perhaps I felt both at once. I certainly felt more lost than I had in months. The Betrayer had betrayed me. He had lied. He had concealed. I could not face him. I wanted to punch him. I wanted to kiss him. The People had suffered. It was his fault. Our fault.

I tried to distract myself with a book, but none would keep away the memories that flooded my senses to bursting. It was too much. My hand burned as my anger enraged the mark. His mark. Fenedhis. Everything was his fault.

There was a knock on the door, and I accidentally lit a piece of parchment on fire when I jumped.

“Enter,” I gruffed.

I tried to put the fire out, avoiding the gaze of the intruder. He stopped the fire with a flick of his wrist, frost tickling the page. I looked up at him with the heat of a thousand suns.

“I could have managed, thank you.”

“My apologies. You are evidently not in a mood to talk. I’ll return later.” He turned to leave.

“Ma nuvenin, harellan. Fen’Harel dirth, var lath him banal? Mala solas melava ena enasalin?”

Solas turned and stared at me, opening his mouth to speak. I must have looked furious because he closed it before he could get more than a gasp out. Recognition dawned in his eyes and then sorrow. After a few moments he finally spoke, his words laced with despair.

“Mir lath tel’halam. Mir solas tu vir’amin.”

I felt deflated by the defeat evident in his eyes. He was regret. Still, I would not be completely deterred from my anger.

“Then why didn’t you tell me? How could you not after everything?” The language of the People flowed easily now, and I was happy no one else within Skyhold could overhear us.

“How could I admit to you everything I have done? I have ruined our people, Isala.” He slumped to the floor, his head in his hands. His shoulders shook.

“I no longer go by that name.”

He looked up, his eyes red. “What would you have me say, Sahlin?” he asked, exaggerating my chosen name.

“I want to know why you kept our past, my past, a secret from me!”

His face returned to his usual serenity as he pushed away whatever anguish he had previously felt. He had not earned the title Dread Wolf without merit. Negative feelings were a boundary that hindered him from reaching his goals. They were something to overcome when the situation demanded it.

“Very well. At first I justified it because nothing had proven to me it was really you. I thought perhaps you were a beneficial spirit who had crossed the Veil to fix my folly or, more likely, a punishment for the atrocities I had committed. If you had been a maleficent force getting too close to you could have destroyed my plans, so I was hesitant at first, but could not deny my interest.

“You are bound to my magic as I am to yours, so it was possible Corypheus had awoken you with his spell, but I feared what could happen if it was not you. Yet when you said you enjoyed my company, your expression looked so much like it once did I could no longer lie to myself. You had returned.”

“Then why didn’t you tell me?”

“I was envious of your ignorance. I was ashamed. After everything I had done, to see a look of hatred cross your face...I could not bare it. It was a weakness.”

“And if I had never regained my memories?”

“I would have told you after we dealt with Corypheus.”

“But not before?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“I had plans. I was uncertain if you would try to stop me and had no desire to become your enemy.”

“What plans?”

“To remedy a mistake I made long ago.”

“Then the Veil...you really sealed them away?”

He nodded slowly. “They deserve nothing more than eternal torment for their actions. I could not forgive them.” A look of fury past his face as a swiftness entered his speech. “Creating the Veil was the last of many bad choices, but it seemed the only way to lock away the devastation they would unleash upon the world. I thought it would bring the People freedom but instead I took everything from them. I could not leave it like that. I had to undo the mistake made by my foolish younger self. I gave the orb to Corypheus, too weakened from uthenera to use it myself, but he survived.” Solas sneered. “I never thought a shemlen would have the ability to survive such magic. Yet I cannot be wholly regretful for unleashing him on these people. If I had known that it would bring you back I would have torn the world asunder long ago.”

My chilly disposition was thawing faster than I had anticipated. He had shouldered so much pain on his own for so long.

“And my mother?”

He frowned, shaking his head slowly. “I have seen no sign of her.” I nodded. “I wish I could express to you my sorrow for what I have done. It was never meant to happen this way. I will fix the mistake that I made.” Determination brimmed in his eyes.

I sighed, deflated. This was too much. “I...need some time. I have been trying, but this cannot be my focus, not now. I must deal with the threat of Corypheus.”

“I would not have it any other way, Inquisitor.” He stood up and made a shallow bow to me. He turned to go but stopped with his hand on the doorknob. “And Isala, thank you for listening to me.” He left me to my thoughts, which now seemed even more clouded than they had been before his arrival.

 

An hour or maybe several passed. Another knock on the door awoke me from semi-consciousness. It was impossible to tell the passage of time underground. “Come in.”

One of Josephine’s assistants came into the room, bowing her head to me. “Inquisitor, I hope I am not interrupting your solitude.”

“Not at all. What can I do for you?”

“I was told the Lady Ambassador had already informed you of tonight’s events. She wishes to brief you on the nobility that will be assembling.”

With everything that was going on I had forgotten the preamble to our journey to Halamshiral entirely. Josephine was gathering those nobles she believed might support us at the ball to Skyhold for a grand feast. Playing the Game seemed very frivolous at the moment given the revelations of the past week, but I was still the Inquisitor no matter what else I might be.

“Of course. Please tell Josephine I will meet her in my quarters within the next fifteen minutes.”

“Very good, my Lady.”

The girl curtseyed and left. I ran my hand against my eyes, rubbing away the unpleasant memories. For now, I had to focus on stopping Corypheus. All other concerns, including those of the heart, were secondary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title taken from the Chant of Light, Trials 1:14.
> 
> Ar lath ma = I love you  
> “Ma nuvenin, harellan. Fen’Harel dirth, var lath him banal? Mala solas melava ena enasalin?” = “As you wish, traitor. Speak Fen’Harel, has our love become nothing? Has your pride already defeated it?”  
> “Mir lath tel’halam. Mir solas tu vir’amin.” = “My love never ends. My pride paved the path to war.”


	8. They trusted Fen'Harel, and they were all of them betrayed

“Oh you look exquisite Inquisitor!” Leliana exclaimed as she hurried over to look at me. “Josie was right. That green does look lovely with your eyes, and your skin is flawless. You’ve done quite well, Shania.”

Shania bowed. “Thank you, Lady Nightingale.”

Josephine had prepared an elegant dress and fine jewelry for the occasion.  The dress was forest green, to bring out my eyes Josephine said, with simple golden embroidery of vines curling around the corset. I had already refused any of those impractical ruffles that some Orlesians wore around their necks, and as it was not a ball gown I had even managed to talk Josephine out of a hoop skirt. The corset had, unfortunately, been a compromise. I was spared the mask for the moment given the feast was in not only Ferelden but also my own fortress.

Shania tutted when I strapped a dagger around one leg under the petticoats, but once I had pulled on the gloves and adjusted the golden branches weaving around my arms she declared me ready. I could not help but be reminded of the dresses I had once worn in Elvhenan. I felt momentarily homesick for a different time.

Thankfully I was permitted to be a “heathen” and wear elven braided leggings instead of those uncomfortable shoes to which most Orlesian women subjected themselves. I had a feeling the fact that my feet were invisible under the skirt was the only reason Josephine consented.

“You both look lovely as well,” I added with a smile, remembering how to behave among ladies of my social tier. Granted, few except arguably the Empress would have been my true equals back in the Arlathan hierarchy.

Josephine went down ahead to announce my arrival. Leliana, who was serving in a similar capacity to a trusted bard in this situation, would walk me into the room.

“Don’t worry, Sahlin. If you forget the information Josephine told you I can always cut in. It is a bard’s place to play the game for her employer, after all.”

“Thank you, Leliana. Hopefully it won’t be necessary.”

I heard Josephine begin her introduction. “Now my lords and ladies if I could please have your attention. I am honored to introduce your hostess for tonight’s festivities, the Herald of Andraste, Mistress Inquisitor Sahlin.”

With that I opened the doors and exited out into the Great Hall with Leliana close behind me. Josephine had done well. There were countless faces before me, many of them masked but a few were bare, all dressed in fine suits and dresses. Some bowed their heads in deference to my position, others merely watched to see how I might act. The remainder waited to pounce at any sign of weakness.

“I thank you Lady Montilyet.” Josephine curtseyed to me. “I would like to thank you all for attending this evening. It has been a long, trying winter for Orlais and Ferelden but perhaps the warmth of our fires can finally begin the spring thaw. For now, I entreat you to enjoy the hospitality of the Inquisition and a respite from the chaos that rages outside these walls.” There was applause and I went to take my place the head table.

Leliana melted out of the shadows. “Well said, Inquisitor. You seem to have a better grasp of the Game than I might have expected.”

“A clever tongue is an instrument most can master given enough practice.” Despite the whirlwind of my mind I was actually enjoying this. There were many things wrong with such festivities in Arlathan, but there were also many things I missed about the delicate dance of the nobility.

“Play it beautifully and the nobles will indeed add to our fire,” she replied. She took her seat further down the table near some of the nobles with which she was already acquainted.

Josephine settled into hers as well, each of us spaced evenly along the table. Cullen was sitting with the Chevaliers in hopes his Templar and military training might assist in garnering their friendship. Cassandra had also been asked to accompany him, although she hated such events. Vivienne had easily glided over to our table and insinuated herself amongst those she deemed high enough to address. She was ever the player of the Game.

As for the others in my inner circle, they had mostly chosen the familiarity of the tavern instead. Sera had been explicitly banned by Leliana and even she did not dare challenge the spymaster. I wondered briefly if Solas would make an appearance.

A duchess and duke along with a couple marquis came to sit with me. I made small talk with them all, throwing their Game back at them. The _shemlen_ seemed impressed beneath those masks at my abilities to twist my words. Little did they know I had been in court longer than they had lived.

“Have you visited the Orlesian countryside by chance Inquisitor?” asked Duchess Caralina of Lydes.

“I have seen only paintings but have heard they cannot do it justice.”

“Oh it is magnificent! My family has a vineyard in the north.”

“There are few wines that compare with those I have drunk from Orlais. The soil must be exceedingly fertile.”

Marquis DeRellion interceded into our conversation. “Orlais has quite a taste for our wine, Inquisitor. Perhaps I could send you some from my own vineyard in return for your assistance with my memorial project.”

“A generous gift indeed, your Grace.”

The Duchess would not be deterred. “The events at Haven were such a tragedy. Did you really single-handedly hold off a dragon, Inquisitor?”

“I heard she tried to sacrifice herself to save the rest of the village. Was that not the way of it?”

“The bards do enjoy their songs, do they not? There is nothing like a hint of mystery to quicken their tongues.”

“Come now Inquisitor. You must offer us more than that,” the Marquis taunted.

“Is it not so that those who do not understand the fire find it the most enchanting?”

“You speak the language of the Great Game well, Inquisitor.”

“It is kind of you to say so, your Grace.”

We were on our final course now, and my head was starting to get a heavy. I glanced around at the sea of faces, their features beginning to blur in the candlelight. Something was definitely wrong.

“Inquisitor are you unwell? You look a bit pale,” the Duchess asked, intrigue evident in her tone.

“A bit too much deathroot in that last canapé I suspect. Thank you for your concern, your Grace. Sister Nightingale did warn me about them.” Leliana and I made eye contact and she nodded with her eyes. Help would be provided. I just needed to hold on.

She ended her conversation carefully with those around her then spoke to a scout who appeared at an invisible summons. He nodded and went to Josephine, who listened then stood up, clinking her goblet.

“I apologize for interrupting your evenings but I have been informed there was a request for dancing. The Inquisition would be happy to oblige and we have prepared a collection of waltzes.” Musicians trickled in from the side-door. Leliana had arranged quite an elaborate contingency plan. “As is tradition the Inquisitor will commence the dancing with none other than our own Commander Cullen.”

Cullen looked like he might faint. I felt a bit bad for him, but at least he could hold me upright for a dance. He awkwardly got up and came to my table, holding out his hand. I stood, hoping the nobles did not notice my shaking, and took it. We made our way to the empty floor in the center.

He placed his hand on my waist as the music began. “Do you know what’s going on, Inquisitor?” he asked as we danced. I was immensely grateful for his large arms and practiced dance moves.

“It is tradition to dance with the most prominent man in our organization.” If he could not tell that I was ill that was a good sign. Maybe the nobles would discount it as well.

“That’s not precisely what I meant.” Thankfully other couples were taking the floor now. Soon I could escape for a bit of air. Cullen looked down at me, blushing. “You look incredibly nice by the way, Sahlin.”

“Thanks, Cullen.” His crush on me that had been growing since the destruction of Haven had not diminished then. He had no idea what it was to love one of the Elvhen. As with all these quicklings he would fall to dust as I watched the world continue on without him.

The blur of someone came up beside us. The room was spinning now. I needed to lay down. If only I could get to a bed. The blur bowed. “Excuse me, ser, but it seems that Mistress Leliana requires the attention of the Inquisitor.”

“Solas, why are you talking to me so formally?”

“In such grand company as this titles are a necessity. Now if you could excuse us, Commander, it did seem urgent.”

“Right, of course.” Cullen released me into Solas’s grasp, who maneuvered me towards the rotunda with the grace of a different time. He laid me down on the couch that was always there. I tried to struggle with the little energy I had but it was no use.

“Please, Isala. Let me heal you.” I considered arguing, but now was not the time. Instead I nodded numbly, and he began probing me with his magic.

The door swung open and Leliana came rushing in. “Thank the Maker that worked. How did you get to her more quickly than my agents?”

“I had been watching from the balcony. The Inquisitor began to look ill, and once the Ambassador announced the dancing I took the opportunity to reach Sahlin.” He had been watching. The Dread Wolf was dogging my steps. I wanted to be more angry but all I felt was tired and empty. “She has been poisoned.”

With that, I fell into a feverish sleep.

 

I awoke many times to the sound of whispers by my bed. I fell in and out of the Fade, plagued by memories of a time long since past. The only constant was the brush of Solas’s aura against mine.

Time passed as my stomach lurched this way and that. I awoke to vomit only to fall back into the Fade soon after. It was hot, cold. Blurred. My muscles ached. My stomach tumbled. I was lost. Warm healing magic poured into my body, trying to sow up the seams that would not mend. I was going to die.

Then a whispered plea called to me in the dark. “Ma garas melar. Ma tel’aravas ir tel’ghilasan, vhenan. Ar tel’bora ma.”

“Solas?” I opened my eyes, a figure barely coming into focus.

He bolted upright. “You’re alive. I thought I, we, had lost you.” He had returned to Common. Were there other ears listening in?

“What happened?” I asked in the harsh shemlen speech.

“You were poisoned by a Venatori agent working for some Orlesian nobleman. Leliana and her people are still investigating.” His voice darkened. “When I find the one responsible, they will regret it.”

I moved to get up but he held me down, shaking his head.

“I need water,” I complained.

“Allow me.” He got up and collected some from a decanter. I suddenly realized I was in my room, not the rotunda. “It would unwise for you to attempt moving yet. I’m afraid the poison will limit you to your bed for at least the next few days.” He handed me the glass of water and I drank greedily.

Energy returned to my veins and suddenly I felt furious. “I don’t have time to sit around in bed, Solas. What if Corypheus decides to attack?”

“Then he will attack.”

“But I need-”

“No. I’m afraid this is an argument you will not win.”

“I’m the Inquisitor! I don’t have to listen to you! This is still my fortress, or do you plan to take it back?”

“It is no longer mine to take.”

“Isn’t it?”

“Skyhold is yours and will remain so, but right now you are first and foremost my patient. Please calm yourself or you will worsen your illness.”

“As if you could stop me, wolf. My memories are not the only things that came back to me.” Raw energy leeched from my hands, but Solas looked unconcerned.

“I know you are angry, but using your magic against me in your current state would do more harm to you than me.”

The mana fizzled and died out. Solas was right; I was still too weak to even cast a simple spell, never mind fight the Dread Wolf. Even if had full use of my powers, I knew deep down that I would never really try to hurt him, and he undoubtedly knew it, too. No wonder his expression was so infuriatingly calm.

I heard a groan coming from the other side of the room. A few seconds later Dorian was hurrying over to my side. He threw Solas an annoyed look.

“Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“You managed fine on your own.”

Dorian shrugged. “True enough.” He turned to me, grinning. “Welcome back to the world of the living, Sahlin.” He looked thinner than usual, his smile a bit weaker than I had last seen it.

“It’s good to see you, too.” The anger slipped away as I returned the smile.

“Oh I’ve seen more than my fair share of you these last few days. Women have so many squishy parts. Is that appealing to men?”

“I’m not that squishy!” I protested. I coughed loudly, heaving. Solas thankfully had a bowl prepared for just this situation. He shot Dorian an angry glare. For his part, Dorian did look more bashful than usual. The vomiting stopped and I lay back on my pillows.

“Right, well, I don’t usually play nursemaid, but for you I’ll make an exception. Where do you want me, Solas?”

“Outside.”

“Solas, come now, you’re being unfair. I helped you heal her, remember?”

“Wait, you helped?” I asked, aghast. “No wonder I’m in such awful shape.”

“You elves are terrible! Contrary to popular belief here in the south, us vile Tevinter mages do have feelings, you know.”

“I was not intending to be rude, Dorian. I meant simply that you should inform the others that Sahlin has survived. They will undoubtedly wish to know the good news,” Solas explained.

“Ah, that’s true. Well, if you insist…” He looked a bit relieved. Dorian had never been one for healing. “But I’m coming back to break up you two lovebirds before long. You can’t keep her all to yourself, Solas.”

Once Dorian had departed Solas brought over a bowl of clean water and a rag. He spoke our language now that the human had left earshot. “Will you let me wash you, or would you like to do it yourself?”

“I have the feeling you have been washing me for the last few days without asking.”

“Yes,” he admitted.

I wanted to scream at him, grab the cloth from his hand and throw it in his face, but the truth was despite my threats I still had no energy to even lift it. And perhaps a little part of me was happy he had been so devoted to me. I retched once again, Solas dutifully holding the bowl for me.

“I don’t think I can do it myself,” I said after the heaving had finally ceased. I hated feeling helpless.

“Would you like me to get someone else?”

“No.”

“As you wish.” He began cleaning my face gently.

“You stayed by my side the entire time.”

“I know your dislike of showing weakness in front of others, particularly those you lead. I did not think you would want them to see you in that state.” He knew me so well, damn him. “Besides, even with my powers diminished, I am still stronger than all of the _shemlen_ mages who grew up with so little access to their true potential. I couldn’t trust your care to any of them. Dorian, however, would not be dissuaded and I had no time to argue with him.”

“He is quite persuasive when he wants to be.”

“You put it more kindly than I might. Before he returns with the rest of the Inquisition, I must tell you something Isala.”

“What?”

“If you not been elvhen the poison would have easily killed you.”

“Then the others will wonder how I survived.”

“I suspect as much, yes. I have tried to misdirect them, but they may have seen through my explanations. It can be difficult to judge at times.”

“How do you maintain the lie, Solas? Doesn’t it bother you at all?”

“Some, perhaps. It has been less difficult than I thought it would be at first. Few of them have truly tried to get to know me. The only one who got very far was you, and perhaps some part of me wanted you to remember.”

“And now that I do remember what happens?”

We were interrupted by the unquestionable sound of rushing feet outside my door. Cassandra burst in, followed closely by Cullen and Leliana. They came to my bedside, Cassandra pacing anxiously at the foot. Cullen looked like he would weep, but Leliana looked as serene as usual except for slightly drooping eyelids.

“Had I known you were ill, Sahlin….” Cullen began, his eyes tearing.

“The Commander has been blaming himself since you lost consciousness,” Cassandra explained. She looked exhausted.

“I am sorry, Cassandra. I should have been more together. I know you took on many of my duties.”

“It is unimportant now that the Inquisitor is awake and you can finally go back to them.”

“Thank you.”

Leliana spoke next. “This should never have happened. We should have been more careful. I take full responsibility.”

“These things happen, Leliana. I’m sure you are doing all you can.”

“Have you learned anything further about the culprit?” Solas asked.

“No.” Her eyes looked murderous. “My agents are still looking, but the trail has run cold. It is unlikely they will find anything now. “

“I see,” he replied simply.

The sound of banging interrupted anything else we might have said. Varric raced into the room as fast as his short legs would carry him, Iron Bull and Dorian hot in his heels.

“You’re alive!” Varric exclaimed. Tears were rolling down his cheeks and he rubbed at them furiously. “We thought you wouldn’t make it.”

“I’m just lucky I guess.”

“Hah lucky my ass!” Iron Bull boomed. “I know you had guts, boss, but damn coming back from that poison is impressive. You sure you don’t have Ben-Hassrath training?”

I shrugged. “Who knows?”

“Right, no memories,” he replied. “I wonder though…”

“Oh come on, Bull. Me, a qunari? I’m way too stubborn for that.”

He laughed. “And you think there aren’t stubborn people in the Qun? Well, I’m glad you’re okay, whatever the reason.”

“Thanks, Bull.”

I listened while they explained the events of the previous days, but as the afternoon wore on I found it harder and harder to focus. Eventually Solas told the others it was time to leave. They all started to file out obediently, but I loathed being alone with Solas again. I was too tired to argue with him, and forgiveness was still far off.

“Where do you think you’re going, dwarf?” I called out before Varric could leave. He came dutifully to my side. His tears had long since stopped but his eyes were still vividly bloodshot.

“I know women can’t possibly resist my charms Inquisitor, but call me to your bedside often enough and the others will start to gossip.”

I laughed. Had I really seen these people as mere wraiths just a few days ago? They seemed more alive than I did at the moment.

“It’ll liven the place up a bit. Too much gloom is bad for the complexion.” He chuckled. “Tell me a story,” I requested.

“Your jailor won’t object?” he asked, shooting a look over at Solas, who was boiling water for a hot compress.

“Who cares what he thinks.” It sounded childish but I was beyond caring. Damn Solas and damn Elvhenan. I was so weary of this sorrow and anger wheedling its way into my heart.

“He has been watching over you nonstop since you fell ill. I figured you were getting closer.”

“I know. Let’s not talk about that, please? I just want to get lost in some outrageous tale and fall asleep.”

“It’s alright, Varric,” Solas said from the fireplace. “I believe a story would be good for Sahlin.” I wanted to tell him off but held my tongue.

“Guess I’ll have to think of a good one then.” He grinned and rubbed his hands together. “There once was a pirate from Rivain…” The story unfolded as I fell off into another fitful night of sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title taken from The Tale of Fen'Harel's Triumph as told by Gisharel, Keeper of the Ralaferin clan of Dalish elves.
> 
> "Ma garas melar. Ma tel’aravas ir tel’ghilasan, vhenan. Ar tel’bora ma." - "Come back to me. Do not travel to a place I cannot go, heart. I cannot lose you."


	9. Once we were not afraid of the dark

In the days that followed I tried to manage the affairs of Skyhold from my bed with little success. It seemed much of my work required a functioning, fighting Inquisitor, but Solas would not let me leave while I was still weak. Unfortunately our companions saw fit to let him take the reins of my recovery and recuperation, and so I spent my days grumbling under my breath while he nursed me back to health.

“I feel fine, Solas. It’s been five days! Can’t I at least go to the training grounds?”

“I’m not sure that is advisable.”

“I am not a child anymore you stubborn, prideful ass! Stop being so damn protective. Look, I can even keep a fire lit in my hand easily.” A blaze erupted from my palm. “See? No fatigue or anything.”

“I know.”

“You know? Then why the hell have you been keeping me here?” I screamed. The furniture in the room started vibrating.

“Please calm down, Isala.”

“Calm down? Are you serious, Solas? I am so bored I could blow up this entire building, and now you tell me you agree that I’m perfectly fine?” The bowl of water Solas kept by my bed shattered, the fractures bouncing off the barrier he made around the two of us just in time.

“The intervening centuries have decreased your patience quite a bit. There was a time when you could sit for days whilst casting a complex spell.”

“We are fighting a war in case you’ve forgotten, wolf!” The mirror was the next victim, slivers of glass littering the floor.

“I have not,” he slurred quickly in an attempt to soothe me. “I was merely concerned that your rapid recovery would look suspicious to the others, nothing more. However, if you it is truly your wish to go burn the training grounds to ash, presumably whilst imagining my face supplanted on the practice dummies, I will not stop you.”

I took a deep breath, the objects in my room returning to their stationary locations. “You could have just said that instead of letting me yell at you like that.” I pouted like a child. “I liked that mirror, too.”

“My apologies.” He waved his hand at the pieces and they reformed the glass. “You needed to get your anger out...and perhaps a part of me wants you to punish me. I deserve your hatred.”

My voice softened. “Is that what you truly believe?”

“I have earned no less.”

“I don’t hate you, Solas.”

“You should. I hate myself.”

“And what does hatred accomplish, exactly? Does it bring back those we have lost?”

“If only it could.”

I shook my head. “That is in the past. Besides, any debt you imagined you owed me has been repaid. You saved my life.”

“You saved your own life. I merely helped your body along the healing process.”

“Still, I’m grateful, even if I seem resentful. I’ve just spent too much time idle in this room. It was somehow easier to find patience in the past.”

“These quicklings do begin to rub off on you the longer you spend in their presence. It is no wonder the elves of this time created the foolish notion that the shemlen took away elvhen immortality.”

“You could not have known that would happen.”

“Perhaps not, but I deserve no less than damnation for believing I could change the world to fit my beliefs and desires. I’m no better than the Evanuris.”

“And yet you have not given up hope.”

“The People still need me, Isala. As long as I have the power to help them I will.”

“You hope to recover your orb then.”

“Yes.”

“I’ll do whatever I can to help. Your power should not be in the hands of that shemlen would-be god.”

“Thank you.”

“Now can I go outside? I’ll look weak and sickly, I promise.”

He chuckled. “Go. I’ll return to the rotunda.”

I nodded and raced out of the room as fast as my tired muscles would carry me to the garden.

 

Iron Bull and Dorian were sitting on a bench as I entered. They were discussing something very rapidly, but before I got close enough to find out what Bull waved me over. I limped over to them, maybe over-dramatizing a bit. I hoped Bull did not notice; he was already suspicious of my seemingly miraculous survival.

“Solas let you out then?” the Iron Bull asked.

“Finally. I was beginning to think I’d become a permanent fixture in that room.”

“Dorian says he wouldn’t stop fussing over you like a bar wench with a couple of beers in her.”

“Lovely imagery, Bull,” Dorian commented. “Nice to see you’re not wilting in the sunlight, you delicate flower you.”

My eyes flashed. “Delicate? I bet I could take you.”

“Hah! Tough talk for an invalid.”

“Hey now children, no fighting while the Inquisitor is still unwell,” Varric said as he walked over to us. “I saw Solas walking into his rotunda. He said he’d finally let you out of that room.”

“Had to come see for yourself?”

“Chuckles can be mischievous when he wants to be. The whole hobo elf thing makes him unassuming. A good tactic.”

I laughed. “Yes, he can be.”

“Hm Solas’d make a good spy if he weren’t so opinionated all the time,” Bull offered.

“So you have to be boring to be a spy? No wonder I never thought about becoming one,” Dorian mused.

“Hey now! What are you calling me, Vint?”

“Boring.”

“I can make it much more interesting for you if you’d like.” Bull shot a toothy grin at Dorian.

“Um I’ll pass, thanks.” He was quick to change the subject. “Anyway, Sahlin, I’m glad you’re roaming about your fortress again.”

“Ruffles will be thrilled. She was worried you would miss the ball.”

“I totally forgot about it. When is it?”

“A week from now. Curly is sending some soldiers out to clear some of the roads to Halamshiral. Apparently there is some unpleasant business with Freemen.”

“When are they leaving?”

He shrugged. “He’d sobered up enough by then to rush off to do whatever it is he does. My money’s on styling his hair.”

“We should go with them.”

“Last time I checked Sahlin you were still ill,” Dorian replied.

“I know but we should help them.”

“You are the Inquisitor. If you order us to carry you on a carriage all the way there we couldn’t really refuse,” Varric offered.

“Assuming you could tear her away from Solas,” Dorian said.

“Spiriting her away in the night then?”

“Varric I’m touched you’d do such a thing for me, but Solas should come along, too.”

He narrowed his eyes. “If that’s what you want.”

I smiled, hoping it did not look forced. “It is. Besides, if we left him here I’d never hear the end of it when we came back.”

“Alright, so who are you going to take then?” Dorian asked.

“Not me I hope. I’ll go if you want me to Boss, but honestly Orlesian balls are really not my thing.”

“I’d imagine you stick out quite a bit,” Dorian replied.

“And you wouldn’t?”

“Certainly I would, but at least I have a few table manners.”

“Hah I save my energy for more...exhilarating things.”

Dorian blushed. “Ahem anyway, who do you want to come?”

“You two, if you wouldn’t mind coming. And then Cassandra, Solas, and maybe Cole. Do you think he would hate going to the ball? He might find it interesting.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll keep an eye on the kid for you,” Varric promised.

“Thanks. I think I’ll go tell them. We’ll leave tomorrow morning, with Solas knocked out and strapped to a horse if need be.”

Varric grinned. “Now that I’ve got to see. Count me in.”

“I can’t have you running off to Orlais in such a state without me,” Dorian added.

I smiled for real this time. “Thanks. You’re true friends.” With that I stumbled off to seek out the others.

 

That night I dreamt of Arlathan. I was sitting at the high table with my brother, watching the nobles dance and twirl as they hid daggers behind smiles waiting for their opening. My brother and I were discussing the current state of politics and some new spells he had been inventing. He had always had a love for uncovering mysteries and conveying them to others at whim. It made him very hard to cross.

_“I found quite a beautiful waterfall near there,” he was saying. “I think you’d like it, Isala. Shall we go there together tomorrow or do you have a date with the Dread Wolf again?”_

_“It isn't like you to be upset about such things.” He frowned. “Oh don’t be that way. I’d love to go with you, assuming our father won’t protest to me leaving the city.”_

_“He doesn’t get to decide everything. Besides, I’ll be with you.”_

_“And you’ll protect me from all the scary monsters that might want to eat me?”_

_“You know you can’t use your magic, Isala.”_

_I sighed exasperatedly. “I know, I know. I just hate being protected all the time.”_

_“Hopefully if all goes well you’ll soon be able to protect yourself again.” He rolled his eyes. “Ah, well here comes the Wolf to steal you away again.”_

_Solas approached, bowing his head in an exaggerated manner. “My Lady.”_

_I giggled. “Oh sit down Solas.”_

 

The images blurred as I felt a presence approach me in the Fade.

“Show yourself,” I commanded. Solas slid out of the darkness, staring at the spirit that had temporarily adopted his form with frown spread across his face. I sighed. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised my memories of that place brought you here.”

“I can leave if you would prefer.”

I shook my head, the memory fading. It was replaced by the swirling green miasma of the primordial Fade. “Dwelling on that time will only drive me insane with thoughts of what should have been.”

“You miss your brother.”

“Sometimes.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You did what you had to.”

Silence stretched between us. Eventually Solas spoke.

“May I ask what happened to you after the death of Mythal?”

“I came here to the Fade.”

“Then you were…” he did not finish, averting his eyes from my face.

“Trapped there when the Veil came down? Yes.”

“I…”

I shrugged. “You couldn’t have known. Besides, I had to try to save at least a sliver of what she once was.”

“And did you?”

“I don’t know. She slipped through my grasp and I lost her after we made it into the Fade. I don’t know what happened to her after that.”

“What happened to you?”

“I hid. Andruil and her pledged nobles stopped hunting me after a time, but I wasn’t sure if they would return so I found a realm of the Fade protected by a spirit of hope. I planned to only stay there for a short time, knowing eventually I would have to return to our people, but when the Veil came down I could no longer leave.

“I tried to find a way to destroy it, but I suppose you must have anticipated the interference of such magic. So I waited, falling into the endless dream and listening to the dreams of the shemlen. Many dreamers came to that realm seeking the spirit often although few ever found it. Those that did were greeted with wonders meant to inspire and nurture.

“My time there is hazy, as are many memories of the Fade, but I was at peace. Then the power in the orb started whispering to me in the dark. There had been many whispers floating upon the fabric of the Fade, calling me to them, but this one I could not ignore. It pulled me out of my waking-dream and through the Veil.”

Solas took a deep breath, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “I searched for you for many years. I should have known my folly would take you away from me as well.”

“I was not unhappy there, Solas. The spirit helped me rest, stopped me from losing sight of myself in a world of imagination. I owe it a great deal.”

“Then I owe it as well.”

“I suppose so. We should go back to the reality we have now.”

“As you wish.”

I awoke to my room, alone. I took a moment to mourn the loss of Arlathan then got up to ready myself for the journey ahead of us.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title taken from “Once We Were” sung by Maryden Halewell.


	10. Souver’inan isala hamin

I had been foolish to leave the safety of the fortress. Now I was endangering not only myself but my companions as well. I watched them lying on the ground before me, bloodied and weak.

We had come across a Fade rift. I had instructed the soldiers to clear out the demons spewing from those near settlements, but left those in the wilderness to my small motley crew. Yet here I was unable to close this one, too marred down with protecting my secret.

Two pride demons and three terrors. I could dispatch them easily. Cassandra still stood, occupying their attention, but she would not last much longer. I had to use my power.

I Fade stepped through the battlefield, catching the attention of one of the pride demons and two of the greater terrors. Cassandra readied her taunt, but I waved her off. She had little time to question my actions, plunging her sword into the one in front of her and blocking the one on her side. “Bind!” I cried, vines appearing from beneath the demons’ feet. All three were rooted to the ground, their energy flowing into the vines and strengthening their hold.

I cast a spell to knock Cassandra and Varric out (Dorian had already passed out), then teleported her to the other side of the field.

I held my staff up to the sky, collecting mana within it, then released it. A blast of purple light poured out of me, reducing the demons around me to ash in an instant. I pulled the spell back just in time, missing Dorian by a hair. I had been lucky, this time.

There were still two more demons. I Fade stepped to the others, who were now making their way towards my companions. I dropped my staff to the ground, bringing my hands before me, and purple flames gushed out of them. The demons were soon incinerated. I had won. I closed the rift easily and then headed to the others.

Solas was supporting a bloody nose and Cole had at least one broken rib. The others also looked pretty bad. “Let me heal you,” I offered. Solas nodded. I cast a large area of effect spell, encompassing them all and repairing their injuries with warm green light. Small tufts of glass poked their heads through the ice as my power laced into the earth and through my companions.

The others came to soon afterwards.

“What happened? How did I end up here?” Cassandra asked.

“The pride demon knocked you out. I carried you across the battlefield.”

“And me? I don’t remember getting knocked out,” Varric said.

“I don’t know. I used my rift ability on the demons. I guess we were just lucky.”

“Very lucky,” Solas added, standing up. He was angry. “We should make camp. We all need rest.”

“Actually I feel better than I have in weeks,” Dorian explained.

“That will subside soon once the lingering magic has worn off. Will you help me Inquisitor?”

“I...yes of course.” I stood up and followed Solas to a nearby cave that could protect us from the cold of the Frostbacks. Veilfire shot out of my palm, allowing us to see. It looked safe.

“If you will begin setting up here I will collect the others.”

“That’s it? That’s all you’re going to say about this?”

He turned to look at me. “What could I possibly say? I could be angry that you used your powers recklessly, but you saved my life. If only my powers had not dwindled to their current state none of this would have happened.”

“I think the Veil is actually allowing me more control.”

“You could have killed us all. You know that I can’t protect you anymore.”

“I know, but I had to.”

“It is done.” He left the cave to get the others without another word.

I could have easily killed Dorian, he was right. I had been foolish. I shook my head, dislodging any sentiments, and began to set up a fire and unroll my bedroll. Soon the others joined me. They began spreading out their bedrolls as well, shooting me glances periodically. I must have looked pretty upset. Eventually Cassandra spoke.

“May I ask what sort of magic those vines were, Inquisitor? I've never seen a Circle mage use them before.”

“I suppose you’d call it ‘nature’ or ‘Keeper’ magic.”

“That’s what Merrill always used,” Varric said. “Maybe you’re somehow related to the Dalish.”

“Maybe,” I replied.

“We have been practicing the techniques together,” Solas explained. “Sahlin wanted to learn more about the magic practiced by elven mages beyond what is taught in the Circle.”

“I see. Well, whatever the case, you have saved our lives yet again,” Cassandra said.

“I had to do something. I'm just glad you're all okay.”

“Oh come now Sahlin,” Dorian said. “It’s not like you to be so sad after a battle. We won.”

I sighed, smiling. “You’re right. Maybe I’m just tired after expending all that mana. I think I’ll turn in early if you don’t mind.”

“Very well, Inquisitor,” Solas answered. “Pleasant dreams.”

   

I opened my eyes to the Fade. The fabric glistened, unfolding into soft, forgotten whispers and childhood dreams. Solas waited for me up ahead. I walked to him, coming to stand beside him.

“It took me a while to find it, but I hope it can offer you some comfort.”

There before us was the place I had spent so much of my slumber. Arching arboreal crests hung here and there, small white flowers blooming in the misty sunlight. The brook I had once bathed in twisted around a magnificent ancient tree. The spirit of hope hovered before it, radiating a warm golden light.

I made my way towards it, climbing up the intersecting vines with an ease one can only accomplish in dreams.

 _“_ Aneth ara, lethallin _,”_ it greeted me.

“I have missed this place. It is just as I remember it.”

“Your image of a sanctuary still takes the same form even with the passage of time.”

I turned to thank Solas but saw no sight of him.

“He wanted you to have a chance to speak with me without his interference. ‘Ma las Isala mala ghilan.’ He loves you. He always has.”

“I know.”

“And you love him.”

“...I do.”

“And yet it is not enough.”

“Is this why he brought me here? To have you convince me to forgive him?”

“No. It is why you came here, lethallin. The one called pride may have brought you, but it is you who seeks forgiveness.”

“Can you grant me such a thing, Hope?”

“I cannot. I can act as the hand that guides the light, but you are the one who must accept it.”

I sat down on the mossy ground, laying my head against the Vhenadahl. “How can I forgive him when I can’t even forgive myself?”

“She does not regret the sacrifice she made.”

“It should have been me. The People needed her, they did not need me. I was just another voice in a chorus of many.”

“You were their hope when they had none. There is a reason your wanderings led you here so long ago. It is that same reason that you have become a beacon of hope for others yet again.”

“And what reason is that?”

“You encourage them to be something more than they are. They trust you to stem the tide of the battle, and it has not yet been misplaced.”

“Hasn’t it? We led them with the hope of freedom but in the end enslaved them with different chains.”

“Are they truly chains? The dreamers still come to this place in search of that same hope. Many of them have now turned to you.”

“I don’t deserve it.”

“And what of those who believe you do? Is their hope not worth preserving?”

The image of an elven boy appeared, bloodied and beaten. A human walked off, laughing. “The Herald of Andraste can save us. She can lead us out of these dark times.”

The boy was replaced by a middle-aged soldier escaping Haven with the other troops. He looked back at the avalanche consuming the village. “She risked her own life to save a bastard like me? Maybe this world ain’t doomed after all.”

The man disappeared, replaced by an Inquisition soldier handing out food. A woman crying in the street looked up at the soldier, hugging her small, emancipated child to her breast. “Thank you, Maker! Thank you for sending her to us.”

I shook my head defiantly. “And how many have cursed my name? How many have died because I was not fast enough?”

“You cannot blame yourself for every death that occurs in this world, my friend. It may not get easier, but you must not relent.”

“I know.”

“It is time for you to wake now. Return to me if you ever lose sight of why you fight. You can find hope even in the darkest of places. Dareth shiral.”

My eyes opened to the morning sun. Tears streaked down my face. No, now was not the time. The others were still here. I rubbed my eyes until they appeared almost normal then made ready to tackle yet another day.

We would reach Halamshiral by the evening, and the party at the Winter Palace would begin in a couple days. We had received news that Josephine and Leliana had already reached the city and were preparing a house for our arrival. Soon I would be fighting a different battle; one of wills and guile.

“Good morning, Inquisitor,” Cassandra greeted me as I rose for some breakfast. Dorian nodded to me, gnawing on some dried meats and looking absolutely miserable. Varric was sitting with Cole, explaining what Orlesian bards were. It seemed my seemingly newfound magic would not be a topic of conversation this morning, for which I was grateful.

I sat down beside Cassandra, taking her offered bowl of porridge. I stirred it, my stomach churning at the sight of food. Crying always demolished my appetite.

“Did you not sleep well?” Cassandra asked. “Are you still feeling ill?”

I forced a smile. “I’m fine,” I lied. “Where’s Solas?”

“Gathering herbs,” Dorian answered, snorting. “How he believes he’ll find any in this tundra is beyond me.”

“Maybe I’ll go help him.”

Dorian eyed me, shooting a wink in my direction but saying nothing.

“I shall accompany you. It is not safe for you to go off on your own,” Cassandra said, putting her bowl down and standing up.

“I’ll be okay, but thank you Cassandra.”

“After demonstrating she can take down five demons single-handed I doubt you'd be much help. Besides, she wants to be alone with our dear elf hobo.”

“Dorian,” I chided.

“What? It was written all over your face.”

I laughed. “See you soon.” I left the cave, shooting a pulse of mana through the Veil until I found Solas’s aura. I found him not far from the cave, legs crossed and his mind halfway in the Fade.

“Sleep well?” he asked.

“Thank you for that.” He opened his eyes to look at me.

“It was the least I could do after you saved my life yesterday.” He searched my face, his forehead scrunching. “Yet you look less happy than I would have expected.”

“Our conversation was a bit somber. Perhaps my emotions colored it more than they should have.”

“What did the spirit say?”

“That I should believe in myself as others do. That the shemlen need me.”

“Hope is right. They do need you.”

“What if I don’t want to help them? What if I want to sleep until the darkness is all I know? Why should I have to endure when I have lost so much?”

“I am sorry, Isala. I know this is hard for you.”

“I don’t need your sympathy, wolf. This is all your fault! Everything's your fault! They are all gone! The People…they...” My voice petered out as my legs gave way and I collapsed into a sobbing heap.

“I know.” His voice sounded small like that of a wounded animal.

“How did it end up like this, Solas? How could we have been so wrong?”

“I am the one to blame, not you. None of this is your fault.”

“Like hell it isn’t! You may have cast the spell, but I helped pave the way. I fought against the Evanuris beside you. Your sins are my sins.”

“Do not say that! Let my sins be mine alone. I could not bear to drag you down with me.”

“It is too late for that. The Anchor is now mine. I cannot escape the road that your magic has placed me on.”

He paused, taking a deep breath. “Yes, yet I still wish I could take this burden from you.”

“You can’t.” I sighed, tucking away my anger in some recess of my mind. “We should return to the others now.”

“As you wish, Inquisitor.”

He followed me back to the cave we had camped in. It was time to make our final trek to Halamshiral. This would be my life, at least for now. There would be no rest for the weary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title taken from the song, “In Uthenera,” translated to “weary eyes need resting”
> 
> “Aneth ara, lethallin” = “Hello, friend”  
> ‘Ma las Isala mala ghilan.’ = ‘Grant Isala your guidance.’  
> Vhenadahl = Tree of the People  
> Dareth shiral = Safe journeys


	11. If one goes by the amount of blood on the walls

Leliana and Josephine greeted us as we entered the city of Halamshiral. It was beautiful as Val Royeaux had been, but there were a definite elven feeling to the architecture. Giant spires surrounded the main square where merchants plied their wares, piercing the clear blue sky. It was warmer here than in the Frostbacks, but there was a mild chill. Soon winter would fall across the empire, the cold touch of Corypheus consuming all in his path.

Our house was in a prominent part of the city called the High Quarter where many nobles followed the royal family during their winter months. Here the architecture was more Orlesian, large banners and colorful houses obscuring the majesty of the ancient elven buildings. It was probably for the best as the rest of the city threatened to make me terribly homesick.

The next day was spent preparing for the ball. My dress was obsessed over to the point of absurdity, but Josephine insisted it was essential to a smooth entrance into the ballroom. Leliana looked anxious the entire time, collecting all the information she could to avoid a repeat of the events at Skyhold. This time I was not the target, however. I needed to know more about the politics of this place if I was to impress the court and save Empress Celene, and so I read book after book about Orlesian customs while three seamstresses bustled around my room in a tizzy.

Finally I was deemed ready. They had chosen a deep red this time for my dress, a daring color but Josephine argued we needed to be in order to set ourselves apart. Unfortunately this time I was forced to wear a hoop skirt and those uncomfortable shoes (Leliana had spent hours picking them out). The outfit was completed with a golden mask inset with sapphires. If it came to a fight I would be at a huge disadvantage, but at least I looked nice...

Cullen had originally argued for conveying a united front by all dressing in uniforms, but Josephine said that would not be taken well in Orlais where extravagance was a sign of power. Instead only Cassandra and Cullen had chosen to wear the uniform as they represented the military arm of the Inquisition in this endeavor.

Dorian walked up to me as I left my room to meet the others. He bowed his head, grinning. “You certainly clean up nicely Sahlin, or should I say my Lady Inquisitor?”

“You don’t look too bad yourself, Altus Pavus. Your mask is quite a statement piece.” It was in the shape of a dragon, garnets in place of scales.

“Flattery will get you absolutely everywhere, my dear. It even works on our fashionably disinclined friend. Can you believe I managed to convince Solas to wear something other than his usual threadbare pajamas, or whatever it is he wears around Skyhold?”

“Did you?” I searched the room for Solas, my eyes finally resting on him. He wore a simple silk doublet of navy with gold embellishments but had not yet donned a mask. It was not quite the elegance of Arlathan but it was a welcomed change from his current look. His eyes moved up and down my body then met mine, a dark hunger pouring from them. He smirked when I blushed, my stomach jumping in a pleasing way.

I tore my eyes away quickly and cleared my throat, ignoring the soft chuckle from Solas’s direction. I looked over at Varric, who was sporting a very nice suit with a bit too much chest exposed for Orlais. “Trying to pick up the ladies, Varric?”

“They can’t resist my chest hair, you know that, Vines.”

“Vines?”

“I finally came up with your name. What do you think?”

I smiled. “Fitting. I like it.”

“I aim to please.”

Cullen and Cassandra entered the room, wearing those horrible red uniforms they had chosen. Cullen blushed almost as darkly as his uniform when he saw me. I shot him a reassuring smile. Cassandra gasped in delight.

“Oh you look wonderful, Sahlin.” She was smiling like a schoolgirl. Cassandra could be very girly for someone who bashed into people wearing heavy plate for a living.

“Thanks. Those uniforms are certainly...something.”

“Garish is the word your searching for,” Dorian supplied.

“You’re one to talk,” Cullen countered. He cleared his throat, pink warming his ears. “You do look quite...well...lovely, Inquisitor.”

I curtseyed to him. “Thank you, Commander.” I glance at Solas, who looked bemused. I guessed he did not see Cullen as potential competition then.

“Shall we go?” I asked. They nodded, Dorian pushing Cullen towards me and instructing him to escort me to the palace. He blushed again, offering an arm that I took while Dorian shot me a wink behind Cullen’s back. Dorian had noticed my glance at Solas apparently.

I laughed. “What is it, Inquisitor?” Cullen asked.

“Oh nothing, Cullen. I think this shall prove to be a most interesting evening.” For his part Solas showed no external signs of jealousy, yet.

 

The first hour of the ball was spent on pleasantries. I walked around to all the people Leliana had suggested I speak to, making sure to flatter them just enough but not too much. These Orlesians were surprisingly easy to please, although it was not hard to improve their opinion of me considering how abysmal it was to begin with. Unlike the nobles who I had encountered in Arlathan the Orlesians had not had centuries to perfect their playing of the Game. Feed them enough half truths and they would eat from your hand. Eventually I had garnered enough praise to receive valuable gossip about the other attendees, which I passed along to Leliana whenever possible.

As with the party at Skyhold, I impressed my fellow Inquisition members with my wit and aptitude for this sort of affair. Josephine was particularly quick to pass along her approval, hoping it might encourage me and continue our generally positive reception.

Solas had been introduced as my servant, and played the role without comment until Cullen, undoubtedly spurred on by Dorian, asked me to dance. It was not without precedent - we had danced together before after all - but this was different. Still, I could not refuse him in front of the ball without sacrificing some of the goodwill I had received. Instead I accepted his offer with as much courtesy I could muster.

The dance commenced with little flare, but as the tempo increased it became more elaborate. I tried to focus on the dance but could not help notice the emptiness in Solas’s eyes as he watched from above. It was not really my intention to hurt him like this. Certainly there was a part of me that craved vengeance, but not like this. For Dorian this was a bit of fun to force Solas to make a move. For me, however, this felt a bit like betrayal to both men.

Finally the dance ended. “Thank you, Cullen.” I bowed my head to him. “That was a nice change of pace from ceaseless talking.”

“I agree. I thought those women would eat me alive.”

“You do seem to have amassed quite the gaggle of fans.”

“Too bad none of them truly interest me.”

I smiled kindly. Time to put an end to this. “Who knows? Perhaps you should try dancing with one of them next.” It was cruel perhaps, but to lead him on unintentionally was much worse.

“I, um, yes perhaps I will.” He looked down at his hands. “Thank you for the dance, Inquisitor.”

“No, thank you, Commander. We should probably get back to our duties now.”

“Of course.” He left looking slightly melancholy, but he would overcome this. I could never be the person he thought I was. I could only break his heart.

Solas approached me as I left the dance floor. He bowed his head, his jaw set. “My lady you were asked for in the other section of the palace. If you would follow me I can direct you.”

“Thank you, Solas.” I followed him without another word, watching his fingers twitch along his thigh in frustration. He led me to an abandoned corridor out of earshot of the others, rounding on me once we came to a stop.

“Isala.”

I sighed and began pacing in agitation. “I think Dorian may have taken this a bit too far. I hope Cullen will be alright.”

“The shemlen should stop his meddling.”

“Don’t be hard on him. He doesn’t know about our past. I’m sorry I wasn’t trying to intentionally hurt you. I should have refused Cullen, I just…”

“Wanted to make me jealous.”

“Yes.”

“You succeeded. Are you satisfied? Stop moving, please.” I obeyed, turning to look at him. He was clearly angry but there was a hint of something else in his eyes. Desire? Maybe Dorian had worked his magic more effectively than I had first assumed.

“And if I am not satisfied? What then?”

He chuckled. “I suppose I’ll have to take matters into my own hands.”

“Oh? And what might that entail?”

“It would start with tearing that gown off of you.”

My stomach did a somersault. “And then?”

He smirked, eyes glistening with mischief. “I’m afraid you will have to wait to find out. It seems Leliana is looking for you.”

Sure enough Leliana happened upon us just as he said that. She glanced between the two of us, clearly noticing the tension in the air but choosing to ignore it. “Sorry to interrupt. I have to talk to the Inquisitor immediately.”

“Be my guest,” Solas said, walking back towards the servant chambers with a definite swagger in his step. The Dalish were right: he was evil.

 

Somehow I had not only managed to uncover the threat to the throne with very little bloodshed but also solved a lovers' spat on the side. No wonder the shemlen thought I was sent by their god; I was impressed by my own miracle working. Briala and Celene were once again reunited, and the elves and humans each got their share of the glory. Perhaps I had bent the facts a bit to get my desired outcome, but the results sometimes outweighed the truth.  I had even managed to avoid ripping my dress or making an utter fool of myself when fighting in those terrible shoes the shemlen wore.

Morrigan offered her services to me. I strongly disliked her haughty attitude, but she seemed fairly capable as a shield for my true identity. If she really had as much knowledge of the past as she claimed to, which I doubted, then perhaps I could use her as a means to guide the Inquisition down the correct path without revealing my true identity.

She excused herself once she had said her piece, and I spent a few moments just enjoying the view from the balcony after she left. This place was certainly beautiful. Even in the darkness the expanse was awe-inspiring. I briefly wondered would what the night looked like through the eyes of a human.

“I am not surprised to find you out here.” It was Solas’s voice. I did not turn to greet him.

“Have you come to finish our earlier conversation or is this strictly a business call?”

He chuckled. “That depends on what sort of business you had in mind. I had come to ask if you wished to talk about the events that transpired, but perhaps you might suggest an alternative use for our time.”

“Your teasing has not changed, I see.”

“Any man who saw you in that dress would have similar thoughts on his mind.”

I blushed like a child receiving a new toy, losing my train of thought momentarily. Solas chuckled at his obvious victory. I spoke once I found my voice again. “You asked to hear my thoughts about the outcome of this evening. Orlais will not survive much longer as it stands now. Tonight we may have saved a dying empire momentarily, but it will collapse soon enough regardless of its ruler.”

“I agree, although I would not advise saying as much within earshot of the nobles. It’ll ruin the reputation you have worked so tirelessly to acquire. What truly matters is you have gained a steadfast ally in Celene in the battle that awaits us.”

He had joined me by the edge of balcony by then, although his eyes were fixed on me instead of the view. I turned to meet them, suddenly afraid. Is this really what I wanted, to fall back into the arms of the Dread Wolf?

He searched my face, his expression troubled. “Would you like me to leave?”

“I don’t know.”

“Then I will make the decision for you.” He made to go, but I grabbed his arm before he could. I shook my head, unable to express my feelings in words. He nodded, smiling softly. We stayed there silently, neither quite willing to break the moment. Whatever heat had passed between us earlier had disappeared with the cool night air. Now I was just left with a dull ache in my chest.

"Shall we dance before the music stops playing?” he asked at last.

“I...yes I think I’d like that.”

He held out his hand to me, bowing down like a true Orlesian gentleman. “Are you sure you know how to waltz, Solas?” I teased.

“I think I can keep up.” There was a glimmer of his old self in his eyes, the man who had swept me off my feet so many years ago.

The music had become slower now that the ball was drawing to a close. He took my hand in his, placing the other on my waist, and we moved silently for a time. I was incredibly tired from dealing with all the machinations of high Orlesian society, but somehow it felt right to end the night in the arms of the Dread Wolf. It felt like coming home.

“You handled the nobles quite well tonight,” he said.

“I merely used the techniques that you taught me.” I looked up at him, running my eyes over the curves of his cheekbones. “Sometimes I miss your old face. You seemed so much happier back then.”

He smiled sadly. “That was the face of a foolish young man who thought he could alter the world to fit his whims. Perhaps I hoped taking on the appearance of a learned man would help me become one.”

“I’ve never once doubted your intelligence, Solas.”

“My intelligence, no. My choices are an entirely different matter.” I dropped my hand as he searched my eyes. He drew his thumb across my lips gently. “You, however, look the same as I remember. I could never forget those eyes. They have haunted my steps in the Fade ever since I lost them.”

He brought my face to his, our lips meeting ever so softly. We stayed there for a moment, letting the spark we had gone without for so long pass between us, and then he drew away. He released me from his arms and turned his gaze away towards the sky. “Forgive me. That was impulsive. The others will be looking for you by now. We should return to the ballroom.”

I nodded, holding a hand out to the jaws of the Dread Wolf. He took it easily, tucking it into his forearm and leading me back into the ballroom. This time he completely abandoned the posture of a servant and we walked as equals. If we drew any looks I felt content completely ignoring them. The time for gathering favor was over.

He released me once we met up with the others, Dorian throwing his arms around me. He had clearly had too much wine.

“You did splendidly! Did you see the looks on their faces? Absolutely priceless.” He laughed heartily.

“Well done, Inquisitor,” Cassandra said, shooting Dorian a face of disgust as he clapped her on the back.

Cole appeared to Varric’s right. “They thought you were the dagger. They were wrong.”

I laughed. “Yes, they were.”

I walked back with them, Dorian on one arm and Cole on the other. Somehow along the way I had found myself a new home in the arms of these people. They may not have carried the same blood as me, but their laughs sounded just as full as any of the Elvhen. I wondered what Solas thought of these people we had joined. He made up the rear of the group and kept his eyes to the ground. I glanced back at him periodically, but whatever his thoughts I could not read them on his face.

Shania greeted us at the door to our rented home with a bow. “Welcome back. I have prepared a bath for you, my lady.”

“Thank you. I’ll be there in just a moment.”

“Very good, my lady.” She bowed again, returning to my chambers.

My companions excused themselves one by one. Dorian, however, was still very drunk and refused to leave the entrance hall. “The night is still young. Look, you can hardly see the stars at all,” he mused.

“Come on, mage. It's time for bed.” A reluctant Cullen carried him to his room, bowing his head to me in parting. The only remaining person was Solas.

I braved the heavy atmosphere, turning to look at him. “Well, I suppose this is goodnight then.”

I vaguely noticed that I was wringing my hands. He took them in his own, his forefinger circling in the barest of caresses. He held up one hand to his lips and leaned down to brush his lips against it. “Goodnight, my lady.”

He began to make his way to the door but halted when I called out his name. He looked back at me, his eyes soft. “Mal’abelas melava tel’nadas,” I murmured.

He nodded, a smile playing on his lips. “Atisha theneras, vhenan.” I watched him walk away with a feeling I could not quite place, but I knew it had been a long time since I had felt it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title taken from Death in the Mansion by Violette Armand (compiled in A Compendium of Orlesian Theater, Volume VI: The Plays of False Faces by Magister Pellinar)
> 
> “Mal’abelas melava tel’nadas.” = “Your apology was not necessary.”  
> “Atisha theneras, vhenan.” = “Peaceful dreams, my heart.”


	12. Every mage walks through life with a blade drawn and ready

The next morning I awoke to the sounds of clashing swords filtering through the window. The sun was already leaking through the frilly curtains. I must have slept too much. I groaned, rubbing my temple.

“Vir’vunin iras elgara?”

“I’m sorry my lady I only understood ‘sun.’”

I sat up, looking around for the owner of the voice. Shania was folding my clothes in preparation for our journey back to Skyhold. She bowed her head when I looked over at her. “Oh Shania I didn’t realize you were here.” I laughed uncomfortably. “You can understand some of the old language?”

“Only a very little, my lady. My father belonged to a Dalish clan before he moved to Halamshiral and met my mother. He only learned the simple phrases, but he taught me some when I was young.”

“I see.” That certainly complicated things a bit. “‘Vir’vunin iras elgara’ is a way of asking the time. It means ‘where is the sun on the path of the day’ according to Solas. He has been teaching me.”

“Master Solas has a very good grasp of the language. To answer your question, it is nearly midday, my lady.”

“That late?” I stood up quickly, immediately regretting it when I felt lightheaded and toppled back onto my sheets. Shania came over to me with a glass of water, which I gulped down hastily. “Have the others woken yet?” I asked.

“Some of them have, yes. Lord Pavus and Master Tethras are still asleep, but given the amount of noise coming from the courtyard I’m not sure they will remain that way.”

“I suppose I should rise then. Could you ask the kitchen to prepare something to eat? I think I’d like to explore the city a bit today.”

“Of course, my lady. I have laid out your armor, but perhaps you would like something more comfortable?”

“Anything will do as long as I don’t have to wear those appalling shoes again. My feet are killing me.”

She bowed, going to the door to tell one of the servants passing through the hall to go to the kitchen. Being the handmaiden to the Inquisitor allowed Shania a certain level of power over the other servants, particularly when I had asked her to do something. Even among those outside of the nobility a hierarchy was maintained, something many people in Orlais seemed to forget or perhaps ignore.

Shania helped me dress, providing me with a practical yet fitting tunic.

“Are you close with your father, Shania?” I asked after a time.

She helped pull my hand through a sleeve, buttoning the little copper clasps. “We were, but he died when I was very young, my lady.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It was a long time ago. I miss him sometimes. He would have loved the opportunity to join the Inquisition and fight for our people.”

I smiled sadly. I missed my mother more than I was willing to admit, too. “It’s too bad he was not able to. Do you know very much about the Dalish? Quite a few of our forces are from their clans but I have never gotten much of chance to speak with them.”

“Only what my father told me. He said they keep to the old ways that city elves have forgotten.”

“Like the blood-writing?”

“Yes. It is a way of showing favor to the elven gods called the Creators.”

Solas and I had failed so miserably in accomplishing our goal. “I had heard as much. They must not think much of me, considering I’m supposedly the prophet of a different god.”

“I don’t think the Maker and the Creators must be mutually exclusive.” She covered her mouth abruptly. “Ah, forgive me, my lady! I spoke too freely.”

“No, please continue. I’d like to hear what you think.”

She hesitated. “I believe in the Maker, my lady, and I believe in you. The Creators were themselves created by something else, were they not? Why can’t that be the Maker?”

“Why not indeed.” I smiled. “How about those boots over there, do you think they are fashionable enough for me to walk around in?” Although I would have preferred to go barefoot given the blisters that had started to poke up, it was considered unseemly in Orlais. I figured some comfortable boots stuffed full of fur would give my feet a rest.

“I think they would be fine, my lady.”

After I had finished dressing I went into the dining hall to eat. The servants had laid out quite a feast for me. Luckily others, including a very grumpy looking Dorian, soon joined me. We passed around the ham, Dorian shaking his head and pointing to one of Solas’s greenish concoctions.

“Good morning Inquisitor,” Cullen greeted as he walked into the hall. He was wearing heavy plate, sweat dotting his forehead.

“So it was you!” Varric pointed an accusing finger at Cullen. “Honestly Curly was that racket really necessary?”

“I waited until nearly noontime. Surely you were up by then, Varric.”

“I wasn’t. Neither was Vines.”

He blushed. “I um, I’m sorry Inquisitor if I had known I wouldn’t have...”

I waved him off. “That’s quite alright. It was time for me to get up anyway. I was actually thinking of walking around town this afternoon if anyone would care to join me.”

“I would love to, Inquisitor,” Cassandra replied. Dorian pointed to his cup of potion and Varric to his collection of papers in front of him. They would evidently be busy for a while.

I turned to Cassandra, smiling. “I would be glad of your company. Perhaps Josephine might like to join us, or Solas. Where is Solas?”

“He said he had to take care of something. He took the boy with him,” Cassandra explained.

“Take care of what?”

“He did not feel compelled to give me that information.” She looked fairly put out by that fact.

“Hm...suspicious,” Varric mused. “I sense a story.”

“I’m certain he’s off in the Fade or something,” I said, shrugging. I was pretty curious myself. Taking Cole with him was a definite sign he was up to something. “Well, in any case why don’t we ask Josephine?”

“I’m afraid Josie is busy dealing with the court this morning,” Leliana said as she walked into the room. “I would come with you but I have a few errands to run as well. Cleaning up the Venatori network here is taking more time than I had expected.”

“Well Cassandra it looks like it will just be us.”

“I would like to stop by the blacksmith if you do not mind, Inquisitor. I have heard they make excellent blades.”

“Certainly. Are you ready to go now?” She nodded and we got up from the table, leaving our comrades behind.

 

Shopping with Cassandra was a bit like attempting to entice a cat to play with a ball of yarn: she loved it but was entirely unwilling to admit that to herself. Instead she spent much of the time glancing at a store until I invented a desire to go see it myself. It was all my idea of course, even if she invariably chose places I would merely glaze by. I pretended to be interested just enough to keep her satisfied.

We did, however, find a very nice herbalist shop where I bought a few ingredients. As Halamshiral still sat within the Dales they carried more of the common elven herbal remedies than those stores I had seen in Val Royeaux.

“Do you need help carrying all that?” I asked Cassandra. She was beginning to draw eyes from the locals.

“I can manage. Perhaps I bought a bit too much, it is just that we do not often get an opportunity to visit stores on our travels…” She turned pink.

“Who doesn’t need two sword maintenance kits?”

“You are laughing at me.”

“Maybe a little,” I admitted. “Listen, why don’t you head back? I wanted to go somewhere before sundown, and it may not be the type of place you would want to bring all that.” I motioned unnecessarily to the seven packages weighing down her arms.

“Where are you planning on going?”

“The lower city. I want to see what the lives of the elves are like here.”

“I feared you might say that. You should not go there alone, Inquisitor. I can take these packages back and then we can go together.”

“I will be fine, Cassandra. I’m an elf, remember? I am probably safer there without you.”

She looked like she might argue but could not help but see the logic to my words. “Very well. I will tell the others where you have gone.”

“Thank you. Are you certain you don’t need help carrying those back first?”

She tsked, walking back towards our rented house without another word. I laughed to myself. She could be very stubborn, not that I was entirely one to talk on that account.

I made my way toward the lower section of the city. Unlike in other cities, Halamshiral had no official alienage because so much of the population was made up of elves. It did, however, have section of the city that was much poorer than the High Quarter and composed almost exclusively of elves. In other words, most of the city was an alienage. Much of it had changed since the empress had burned down the area inhabited by rebels I had been told. Many buildings still appeared burnt out and abandoned, but there was life returning to this place.

I made my way down its streets, nodding in greeting to the stall owners. I eventually came across a group of children playing an ancient game I had not seen in years. They had modified some of the rules to compensate for their lack of magic, but it still resembled what it had once been. One girl dashed around the rock that had taken the place of a tuning crystal, protecting it from the other children trying to grab it. They could no longer teleport, but the grace of these children had not diminished. The humans had not taken everything from us.

“You remember what it was like before. You played it with the branches, but they were never small like you.” I jumped, noticing Cole hovering to my right.

“You startled me.”

“I’m sorry. Solas always knows. I thought you were the same. Lonely, longing. The little girl hopes for freedom, friendship. The wolf shows her.” I nodded solemnly, letting my thoughts drift away. “You can make them disappear like Solas!”

“Yes I can. Do you know where he is, Cole?”

“The wolf’s jaws thirst for blood. He does not want you to see.”

“Whose blood?”

“The man who poisoned the goblet.”

“Solas found him?”

“No. I looked and found the house, crowded, wood burnt but no fire. Solas wouldn’t let me help. He hurt you. I wanted to help.”

“I appreciate that Cole. Can you show me where this house is?”

“You want to stop him.”

“Yes.”

“Why? He hurt you.”

“Sometimes revenge is not the answer. That is something Solas often forgets.”

“I...don’t remember where he went. Where did it go?”

“Solas must have taken your memory away so I wouldn’t follow him. I suppose I will have to do this another way.”

“I want to see. Do I have to go?”

I smiled. “No Cole you can stay. It would helpful if you would keep an eye out for the townspeople.”

“I want to help.”

I led him into an alley nearby. No one was around us but I put up an illusion regardless. To any onlooker it would be just another alleyway littered with broken bottles and other detritus. Cole stood dutifully near the edge, looking around, but was soon fixated on me.

I closed my eyes. Millions of voices collided with my mind, each fighting for dominance and leaving my slightly nauseated. I brought my hands to the sky, pushing the air downwards to clear the excess voices, the silence welcoming me with its cool embrace. I stretched out my aura, listening carefully for the gentle hum of Solas’s usual amber but found a shrieking red. His urge for vengeance washed over me, my heartbeat rising as I dug my fingernails into my palm. I needed to kill that man. He had hurt the one I loved.

I opened my eyes, dislodging Solas’s feelings from my mind. “He’s in the trading quarter. We should hurry.”

 

Cole followed behind me as we made our way through the narrow streets towards Solas’s location. I assumed Cole had become invisible to all but me as the elves around us looked up only briefly before returning to their work. I passed by the stalls, ignoring the calls from shopkeepers to peruse their wares, and made it to the less reputable part of the Trade Quarter. One shabby looking elf passed by me, muttering nonsense under his breath. Others dressed in leather scraps with daggers tucked in their belts eyed me hungrily. My somewhat ornate attire may have looked normal in the High Quarter but down here I looked like a robbery waiting to happen.

I suddenly found two men blocking my path forward. “Where ya goin’ sweetheart?” the taller one asked. He had a scar on his lip that had healed poorly, leaving him with a permanent snarl.

“Nowhere you need to concern yourself with.”

“Aw don’t be like that. Ya wanna come with us? We can show you a real good time.”

“Not in the slightest.” I wanted to avoid drawing attention to myself, but the way this was heading that looked impossible.

“She wouldn’t like bending like that,” Cole explained as he appeared between me and the thugs. He had his daggers out.

“Where’d he come from? He fucking popped outta thin air!” one of the men shouted. Eyes started falling on us. This was not looking good.

“Who the fuck cares? Kill the shem!” another yelled.

They descended on Cole. He could take a few of them, but eight would be too many even for his talented footwork. I pulled in my powers, collecting the raw energy in my hands. I lifted my hands upwards and the earth shook beneath the thugs, cracking beneath their feet.

“She’s a mage! Get her!” the leader yelled. They tried to make it to me, but the ground collapsed beneath them, swallowing them one by one. Two managed to escape by running in the opposite direction once they saw the first few fall, terror subsuming their visages.

I pulled my aura back but the cracks did not stop. They were coming towards us, consuming everything in their wake. A broken cart fell below the earth, crashing down into the abyss. The man who had been muttering now ran towards the hole, jumping down into it with a contented cry. A house broke in two, one part of it tumbling down into the gash in the earth, furniture flung every which way.

“Cole get out of here!” I yelled. He looked back with a expression of concern but obeyed, disappearing in an instant. It was getting closer. If I did not stop it the entire quarter would soon be engulfed but the longer I remained here the more danger I was in. Could I really stop it on my own?

I held my hands before me, desperately holding it at bay, but the chain reaction had started. I was going to die here along with all the other unfortunate elves. What had I done?

A familiar aura passed through me as Solas Fade stepped to my side. He glanced in my direction, placing a hand upon my shoulder while extending the other out towards the quake. He began to glow a cool blue as my magic steadied under his precision. I could feel him pull my power through me, throwing my mana at the all-consuming hole in hopes of appeasing it. My vision started getting hazy, the power spilling slowly from me.

“No Isala not yet!” he cried. If he kept draining my mana I would pass out soon. Then I heard it: the cracking had stopped. He had done it.

I fell limply into Solas’s outstretched arms. He held me gently, probing my body with his magic.

“I’m alright,” I supplied, my eyes still half shut. I let my mana recede back into my body, pushing it away and hoping it would stay there, then sat up slowly. Solas was reluctant to let me go but conceded after my attempt at a reassuring smile.

The gash was nearly twenty feet across. The houses surrounding it had all been eaten away, leaving nothing but dust in their wake. “Can you...fix it?” I asked, my voice shaking.

He shook his head. “I’m sorry but I am not strong enough.”

“But I can.” I raised my hands towards the hole but he grabbed them, turning me to face him.

“Absolutely not.”

“Solas this is my fault. I need to fix it.”

“You have done enough. You could have died!”

I looked down at my hands, tears forming in my eyes. “I thought it was better. I have been able to cast simple spells without any problems. I even succeeded the other day. I…”

“The Veil is getting weaker and the mark stronger. It was only a matter of time before it returned to how it once was.”

“I don’t want that! Take the magic away. I don’t want it...I don’t want to be like that again!”

He pulled me to his chest and held me while the tears stained his tunic. We stayed like that for what seemed like days. If people walked by us I did not see them. All I could do was sob into Solas’s chest, wishing my abilities away. I just wanted to be normal, if only for a little while.

The sobs eventually subsided and I looked up at Solas’s face to search his glassy eyes. I sighed, letting my eyes fall to my lap. “I want you to make me another binding amulet.”

He placed his fingers beneath my chin and brought my face to his own. “I cannot agree to that.”

“I am becoming dangerous, Solas. I should still be able to close rifts even with the amulet. That’s all that matters.”

“You will lose yourself, your light, your spirit. Do not make me watch that again. Please Isala.”

“If Corypheus learns how to channel my power he will become unstoppable, you know this. It doesn’t have to be permanent. Once he is gone we can remove it, but I can’t take that chance.”

“We do not have to decide right now. It will take some time to enchant it. Let us return to the others for now.”

“And leave this?” I asked, motioning to the crater I had created.

“What other choice do we have?”

“Let me try to heal it.” He looked like he would protest but I held up my hand. “I can do it. I know I can.”

He nodded, helping me stand. I took a deep breath, funneling the mana through my body down to my feet. I pushed outwards with my mind, pulling the earth back together. It groaned, vibrations sending small shockwaves through the street, but formed back together cleanly. I smiled, my eyes closing as I fell back into Solas.

He lifted me up in his arms, cradling my head, and began to walk back towards the High Quarter. I was in no shape to care what others thought of me, but I briefly wondered what the elves thought when they saw me clutched up against Solas’s chest. Did we look different to them? Did our height and musculature, so much more similar to a human’s than their own, confuse them?

Once we had started seeing the beginnings of the nobles I insisted on walking on my own. Solas placed me down without argument but kept his arm around my waist to steady me. We made it back to the house with my reputation remarkably intact.

Shania looked surprised when I entered my room. For the most part it had been stripped except for the bed linens as we planned to leave the next morning. She bowed politely to me, eyeing Solas with slight suspicion.

“Are you alright my lady?”

“Yes, thank you. I got into a bit of a disagreement with some of the thugs in the lower city. I would appreciate it if you wouldn’t mention as much to Cassandra.”

“Of course, my lady. Is there anything I can get for you?”

“A bath would be nice.”

“I’ll prepare the water right away.” She bowed again, lowering her head to Solas, and left to boil water.

I sat down on the bed, sighing. My head was still swimming some but I was definitely beginning to feel better.

“Drink this,” Solas ordered, handing me a lyrium potion. I downed in a couple gulps, the energy spreading throughout my body all the way down to my toes. “It does not appear that they touched you.”

“They didn’t.”

“Good. I have already bloodied my hands once today.”

“Then you killed that man?”

“I did.”

“I see.”

A knock at the door announced that Shania had returned with the bathwater. Solas rose from the bed and opened the door for her. “I shall say good evening now. You should drink another potion prior to sleeping.” I climbed into the tub after he had left, sinking myself below the water in hopes it would wash away the dread I felt, but it remained.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title taken from A Meditation upon the Use of Blades by Swordmaster Massache de Jean-mien


	13. With passion'd breath does the darkness creep

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italicized quotations are taken from the game.

A mild wave of sadness came over me as we left Halamshiral the next morning. I was certainly happy to leave the court intrigue behind but the city had reminded more of Arlathan than any other shemlen city I had come across since falling out of the Fade. I felt a wretched ache for a home I could never return to.

I turned my hart away from the city and kicked him into a gallop. Josephine gave me look of surprise as I blew past our entourage’s carriage. The others followed with a glance among each other but I waved them off. “‘I’m going to go on ahead.”

“That’s not a good idea!” Leliana called after me but I was already too far for them to catch up with me.

I rode for an hour until finding my destination. It was still here after all if perhaps not what it had once been. I dismounted, tethering my hart to a tree as I stared up at the ruin of the gaping archway. An image of it covered in moon lilies filled my mind’s eyes momentarily. Now only tired vines weaved their way around the old stonework.

The interior had mostly disintegrated with age but the amphitheater still looked fairly intact. I walked into the center, looking up at the moss covered seats and imagining them filled with elvhen families. Solas and I had come here quite a few times to see performances. Unlike the grand theaters in the north this one had catered to the masses and slaves. Here we had been just two other faces in the crowd.

I placed a few wards before lying down on the grass that now covered the stage. The ground was warm with the morning sunlight, the tiny heads of crocuses peeking up through the dirt. Soon my body relaxed into the gentle embrace of the earth and I drifted off to sleep.

I found myself sitting in the seats next to a young boy and a woman. The boy bounced up and down, eyes glued to the stage. “Are they coming out soon? I want to see them!”

“Patience, da’len.”

As if on cue the stage lit up with Veilfire, the translucent figure of a spirit hovering in the center. “Welcome one and all. Tonight we recount the story of the Durgen’amin, a battle between the righteous fire of the gods and the Titans who would enslave their creations.”

The spirit disappeared as a young woman with the horns of a dragon attached to her head walked onto the stage. “I am Mythal, mother to all and the Hand of Justice. The Stone has become unstable of late. The earth shakes and the trees cry. We must put a stop to their recklessness before the earth cracks anew.”

A man dressed in the garb of a wolf came onto the stage now, red eyes dotted across the pelt covering his head. He bowed to Mythal, coming to her side. “I, the Lord of Tricks, will cut down your enemies. None shall stand in our way.”

“I will lead the charge with you at my side,” said another voice, a man with a halo of light dancing behind his head. “I, Conqueror of my Father, shall aid my beloved in battle once more.”

It struck me how similar these half-truths were to the lies that the Dalish believed now. They knew nothing of the war with the Titans, even the durgen’lin seemed to have forgotten their existence, but the commoners believed these tales. They believed the Evanuris to be gods. I shook my head in annoyance. Anyone who had ever interacted with any of the Evanuris would soon be remedied of that notion. Their tempers and vanity knew no bounds. As Solas had once said, no real god need prove himself. Sadly few commoners had ever seen the Evanuris except with the mask of their power concealing their true selves.

I watched the story unravel before me, Mythal and Elgar’nan leading the charge against the Titans. The actor performing as Mythal stood before us alone, sword drawn high into the sky, and then plunged it down into the heart of the Titan. It burst blue light as the stage became littered with blooming flowers.

“It’s so pretty Mamae!” the little boy exclaimed.

“Yes it is. Mythal made the earth beautiful.”

The image faded away as I woke, opening my eyes to the decimated theater. I sighed, turning onto my side to see a pair of calm blue eyes staring down at me.

“Good morning,” Solas greeted me.

I sat up, clearing the glyphs from the ground. “How long have you been there?”

“Not long. I did not wish to disturb you. What play did you see?”

“The Tale of Durgen’amin. The man playing Fen’Harel looked nothing like you.”

He laughed. “Few people beyond our circle knew my true form. The Stone War, the beginning of the hubris of the Evanuris. It is curious that none of the Children of the Stone remember their origins. They speak of a ‘Stone sense’ but they too seem to have lost their heritage.”

“The darkspawn must be at least partially to blame for that.”

“Indeed. The blight has taken much from this world.”

“Where are the others?”

“They continued on to Skyhold. Cullen had hoped to send out a search party immediately after you left but I dissuaded him.”

“All by yourself?”

“No. Cassandra and Leliana helped.”

“The Lord of Tricks needed a helping hand?”

He smirked. “Hardly. Appearing to need their assistance makes it seem I am not self-sufficient. Trust is born from feeling needed by another.”

“That sounds more like the prideful man I know. Shall we go then?”

“After you, Inquisitor.”

We caught up with the rest of our comrades by the evening, all of us arriving at Skyhold the following day. I retired for the night once we had reached the fortress, awakening the next morning to the pleasant songs of birds outside my window.

I made my way to the garden before breakfast to admire the beautiful spring morning but found it already occupied by Solas and Cole.

 _“_ _No,”_ Solas stated firmly. _  
_

_“But you like demons!”_

_“I enjoy the company of spirits, yes, which is part of why I do not abuse them with bindings.”_

_“It isn’t abuse if I ask!”_

_“Not always true. Also I do not practice blood magic, which renders this entire conversation academic.”_

Cole turned to me, vacillating from side to side in agitation. _“He won’t bind me. He’s a mage, and he likes demons, but he won’t help.”_

“Solas does not wish to take away your freedom Cole.”

“But I can’t be safe if he doesn’t bind me. He is making an amulet to bind you. Why won’t he bind me too?”

“That’s different Cole.”

“No. It’s to make it so they can’t control you.”

“Yes, but I will not lose my free will. It will change me, but I will still be able to make my own decisions. If you were bound to Solas you could no longer think for yourself.”

“Then will you bind me? I like the decisions you make. You like demons too, don’t you?”

“I cannot do as you ask, Cole.”

“But I need to be safe!”

“I have heard stories of binding amulets being used by Rivaini mages to protect spirits they summoned from rival mages. An Amulet of the Unbound should protect Cole as well. _The resources of the Inquisition could be used to find such a talisman_ ,” Solas offered.

“ _Good. They will not take me_.” Cole walked off without another word and I turned to Solas, speaking in Common as we walked towards his rotunda.

“Do you really think we can locate an Amulet of the Unbound?”

“Potentially. I believe it is worth investigating.”

“Yes, you’re right. I will ask Leliana to send out some of her people.” I paused as he opened the heavy wooden door for me. “So, you are truly crafting it then?”

“You asked me to, Inquisitor.”

“I did, but you disapproved.”

“Despite my own feelings on the matter I cannot discredit the validity of your words. There may come a time when Corypheus learns of the rune and deciphers how to siphon your magic. However, until we learn that has occurred I would like to request that you abstain from wearing it.”

“It will make fighting alongside you all harder if I have to hold back constantly.”

“Indeed, but it would also drastically hinder your ability to lead if you slowly became tranquil.”

“I hate it when you use logic against me.”

“It has certainly proven in the past to be a valuable tool.”

“Very well you win. Make the amulet but I’ll use it only in emergencies.”

His eyes softened, “Ma serannas.”

“I have no desire to go back to that feeling either, Solas.” A flash of memory passed through my mind, cold and empty. I was alone, surrounded by voices I could not hear. I stared at their faces, trying idly to ascertain what they wanted from me.

“Inquisitor!” Cullen shouted, bringing me back to the present. “I have those reports you asked for.”

I shook my head briefly, disassociating myself from the vacant person I used to be. I took a cursory glance at Solas, whose eyes had taken on an infinitesimal glimmer, then made my way over to Cullen.

“Thank you!” I smiled, taking the proffered parchment from the Commander’s hands. “Hm it looks like things are getting fairly bad out there.”

“What has happened?” Solas asked as he walked over to us. I handed him the parchment and saw Cullen’s mouth turn down slightly. I pretended to not have noticed.

“It seems those Freemen we were fighting before Halamshiral have become bolder. They are congregating in the Exalted Plains and Emerald Graves making it impossible for the Orlesian forces to return home. Celene has expressly asked us to help her. I think we should go.”

“I’m sure my soldiers can take care of it if you have other more pressing things to do, Inquisitor.”

“You know how it is Cullen. I was recently asked by some duchess to deliver a letter to her distant relative halfway across Thedas. We couldn’t possibly put that off to save some lives. This is Orlais after all.”

“You can’t be serious. Wait, you’re joking. Of course you are. Let me send some troops with you at least.”

“That would be very helpful, thank you Commander. The bulk of Celene’s forces are in the plains. We should head there first.”

“Very good. I’ll get some people on it right away.” Cullen walked off.

A long moment of silence passed as Solas and I each avoided mentioning the recollections that were passing through our minds. I had never seen anything affect him more than watching me slowly lose my emotions and connection to the Fade. I hoped it would not come to that again.

“Well, I have some business to take care of with Josephine. I will see you tomorrow morning.”

“I am coming with you then?”

“Unless you have somewhere else to be.”

He smiled. “I would be happy to accompany you.”

“Tomorrow then.” I spent the rest of the afternoon and evening drowning in paperwork.

 

“What is she doing? I can sense mana pouring out of her hand,” Dorian asked. I had forgotten this was not a common form of magic for the mages of this age. Luckily Solas cherished the lie too much not to intercede.

“It is similar to the techniques you saw Sahlin use before. She is projecting her aura into the dirt to extract knowledge from the living things around us. Few outside of the Dalish practice such rituals and even fewer learn much from their attempts. Most use the abilities to call nature to their aid in battle, such as you have seen Sahlin do, which is a practical but much more simplistic use for the ancient techniques.”

“So you can make flowers bloom with your song? No wonder you never answered me that one time I brought it up.”

“Ah yes, the fantasies of Tevinter make a reappearance. It is not a form of magic I have spent much time examining. The Fade has always been my focus. The trees have seen much over their centuries but the spirits of the Fade unlock far older histories. We have been practicing it at her behest.”

I continued to probe the soil with my thoughts, pushing mana into it. When we had made it to the Exalted Plains their terrible emptiness had overthrown me. The shemlen had erected statues declaring the righteousness of their cause against the old elven land. It sickened me to see the towering figures justify so much death for an absent god. Now I witnessed the forgotten memories of this place that had been trapped beneath bloodied soil for ages passed.

A particularly brutal memory of a child’s lifeless form thrown against the ground drew a strangled cry from my lips. Cassandra lurched towards me, but Solas stopped her. “Is it dangerous?” she asked, conceding to Solas’s extensive magical knowledge.

“Not inherently, no. The Inquisitor is most likely reliving some of the more painful memories that have been preserved here. Many have died on these plains.”

I silenced myself while I tried to gain a few more moments. So much of history was lost to me. I wanted to drink the earth dry until there were no more secrets to hide.

After a time I stood up. “I’m sorry for worrying you, Cassandra. Solas is right. There has been so much death here…it was a bit overwhelming.”

“There is no need to apologize. It was a great tragedy what the Chantry did to your people.” Dorian squeezed my hand in solidarity while Cole bounced on his heels, trying to discover the best way to soothe my suffering.

“We have lost so much. Once we were so much more and now we pass through life in shadow. Emma revas him var din’an. I want to help the hurt. How can I help?”

Solas met my eyes briefly, my sadness echoed in his face. Varric stretched up to Cole’s shoulder, patting him on the back. “It’s all right, kid. Vines knows you want to help her, but this isn’t a pain that disappears with the giving of a flower. Perhaps it can never be healed, but with time maybe it can be mended.” He glanced at me, hopeful.

I had no wish to discuss this further. “Let’s keep going. We should discover the cause of the undead.”

 

We spent the remainder of the day reclaiming the ramparts. Eventually it was too dark to continue further so we searched for a clearing to sleep. I could not help but be interested in the Dalish so I convinced the others to make camp near them, hoping in the morning I might discover more about them. The location was not particularly close to the rest of the Inquisition, but there were no shemlen soldiers running amok for which I was grateful. There were too many of them as it were.

We settled on the ancient bathhouse, which was now nothing but ruins as the theater had been. I remembered it in the old days, large and glorious with any type of oil one could ask for and seething hot baths with promises to ease any pain. It had been dedicated to Sylaise long ago, though few of those proclaiming godhood would leave their palaces and temples to enjoy a public bath.

Places such as this stirred an ancient yearning in me I did not always realize was there. As much as the life I had before the Breach had its limits I had at least had the illusion of freedom. And a wolf who would stop at nothing to wrench me further from my father’s grip.

I tried to distract myself from thinking about the past by looking over the fire at my companions. Varric was telling Cole one of his stories and, despite her attempts at appearing indifferent, Cassandra was listening very intently as well. Even Dorian chuckled as Cole tried to spoil the ending by pulling it out of Varric’s head.

“You’ll ruin the tale if you keep that up, kid. We were just getting to the good part, too.”

“Do not stop now, Varric. What happens to Hawke next?” He shot her a knowing grin and Cassandra blushed a deep scarlet. “I mean, if you wish to continue.”

“Yes, do tell us more!” Dorian had had at least three drinks already and was halfway through his fourth. He had an unusually low tolerance for someone who consumed as much wine as he did. I wondered how much of it was real or if he just enjoyed acting the part.

Watching them made me feel even more alone. As much as I wanted to join them, I was not a part of their world, not really. I could look the part of their Herald, their Inquisitor, but I would outlive them all. I would have to watch as all these things we had built together came crumbling down; listen as my name became nothing more than a scribble on a page. The world would change, and when it did would I remain the savior or become the defiler? When would tales of my accomplishments begin to haunt me like those of Fen’Harel haunted him?

My heart ached to be with him, to share with him the pain in my chest. He had retired to one of the old private baths to explore the memories of this place. I dared not go to him. How could I face him in this place? Was he in the Fade right now watching the memory that kept flitting into my mind? Did he remember the brush of his hand against my thigh in the bath and the sound of my voice when I cried out his name?

It would not do. I could not stay away from him. Much as I had tried at the beginning my resolve had slowly melted away along with the melting snow of winter. Spring it seemed had thawed the love that had remained dormant in my chest. I knew I loved him. I would always love him. The damned Dread Wolf had caught my scent many, many years ago.

None of the others stopped me as I walked deeper into the ruin. My feet carried me to the room we had once stayed in together of their own accord. He sat where the bath had once been, looking up when I entered but saying nothing. Had it really been thousands of years since that day? It felt like yesterday.

I sat down beside him. “Can’t sleep?”

“It seems my mind is preoccupied with memories of its own tonight.” He remembered, too. _Fenedhis_ , I should have let sleeping wolves lie! “Do you remember these plains?”

“Better than I thought I would. There was once an eluvian that lead to one of your sanctuaries, was there not?”

He turned his face to look at me and I made the mistake of looking into his eyes. They were filled with that same heat I had seen in Halamshiral.

“Isala…”

He leaned in towards me, eyes searching my face. Whatever expression I had seemed to spur him on. He smelt like earth, lyrium, and sex. Suddenly his lips were upon me. At first it was like a memory, soft and sweet, and then the thrill of a tongue flicked over my lip. Teasing, enticing. It had been so long. I had ached for him without even realizing how much I had.

He pushed me onto my back, cushioning my head with one hand while the other began undoing the clasps on my armor. He kissed me deeply, biting my lower lip as the top half of my armor fell away. I lay exposed to him as he descended down my body with his mouth. Sucking, biting, relearning the curves of my stomach and the rise of my breast. He pushed his mana through me, leaving me shivering in the best possible way. I needed him. All of him. Now.

“Solas...your armor. Take it off.”

He chuckled. “The shemlen truly are destroying your patience, d’elgara.” He teased me but complied, shedding the top half of his armor.

I ran my hands over his chest, remembering the pull of his muscles. He now wore an older face and his hair had been lost to his shame, but his body was just the way I remembered it: youthful; strong; eternal. His kissing sped up as I dragged my hand across his hipbone just as I knew it would. He smiled into my mouth, pulling the remainder of my armor away.

He pinned me to the ground has he nipped and teased his way down my stomach, licking a long line across my pelvic bone. I shuddered into him as he moved down slowly towards the place I wanted him to touch more than anything. Insatiable hunger filled his eyes while he smirked up at me before he delved into me. I moaned out his name, buckling against him.

The feeling was building. He placed a finger at my entrance, sending a slight pulse through me. It rubbed at my insides in all the right places. Another moment passed and he slid them in, sending pulse after pulse of warm, intoxicating mana.

And then he pulled away, licking his lips in satisfaction and leaving me feeling utterly empty. I needed more. I needed him inside me. He was still wearing an infuriating amount of clothing.

I tugged at the top of his breeches and he pulled them down. He kissed me, widening my hips and settling between them. I could taste myself on his tongue.

And then he was inside me in one motion. This was how it was supposed to be. We fit together perfectly. He was my wolf; my soul; my love. He began a steady rhythm, spurring me onward. I was incredibly close now but Fen’Harel was never one to rush things. He went tantalizing slowly, filling me completely. Each thrust pushed me further into the Fade, magic collecting in my toes as I rubbed them furiously against the earth. Heat, warm and welcome, filled me as he filled me.

I stood the precipice, my vision fogging over. Mind-blowing pleasure burst through my entire body as I crashed down, my nerves set afire. I screamed for him, pulsing around him as he followed me over the edge. He spilled himself inside me, his teeth marking my neck.

He held me there for a few moments before pulling out slowly and rolling onto his back. I curled up beside him, tucking my head into the crook of his neck. Where once we had looked upon a golden ceiling we now saw the heavens.

We had no need for words so we said nothing for a time. I listened to the sound of the river nearby as it lapped against the aging stonework. Perhaps not everything was lost.

“Solas…” I began. He waited for me to continue, stroking my hair absentmindedly. “What do you plan to do to restore our people?”

“I am not certain you would like it if I told you.”

“So you won’t?”

He was silent for a while. “As I told you before I plan to undo my mistake.”

“By removing the Veil?”

“Yes.”

“How?”

“That depends if we are successful in procuring the orb from Corypheus or not. With it, I should be able to remove your mark and regain the powers I once possessed, allowing me to enter the Fade and tear down the barrier myself.”

“And if not?”

“I will seek an alternative.”

“Tearing down the Veil would unleash the darkness we trapped long ago. It would destroy this world.”

“The Grey Wardens are already doing an excellent job of that themselves.”

“They don’t understand what they are fighting against. That is not their fault.”

He sighed. “I know. It is difficult to watch them rush blindly forward after we sacrificed so much.”

“Are the shemlen really not worth saving to you?”

“There are consequences to every choice, and it does haunt me, but this world should never have happened in the first place. You saw the future of a world where you had failed to close the Breach. Did it not feel like you had to do everything within your power to remedy it?”

“That world was an abomination but going back saved many lives, it did not take them.”

“And returning the state of the world to how it once was will save our people.”

“I love the People, too, Solas, but we are the past. These shemlen are the present. We should give them at least the chance to grow in something greater. I do not believe they are beyond redemption.”

“So you are content to watch them fumble through their short lives, squandering the sacrifices we made so long ago? To watch the wraiths of what our people once were suffer at the hands of humans? To watch those with magic wish their gifts stripped from their blood?”

“We can find a middle ground. We could teach them.”

“I have tried to reason with them, but they would not listen. They are content to charge towards a decision without thinking through their actions.” He sighed. “Let us not argue about things that may never come to pass, vhenan. For now, let us enjoy this moment while we have it. It may be that neither of us survive the hubris of this shemlen would-be god.”

“Very well.” I was not done arguing with him, but there would be time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title taken from Transfigurations 1:5
> 
> Durgen'amin - The Stone War  
> Ma serannas = Thank you  
> Emma revas him var din’an. = Freedom became our death.  
> d'elgara = little sun  
> 


	14. And for a time, it was home

We lay there for a while longer until the sky started to darken. They would be missing us soon. We went to the river first to relish our moments together without wondering eyes just a bit longer. Solas helped me wash the stench of undead and demons from my body, carefully submerging our armor and wiping it clean. He dared not linger too long upon my skin lest his desire for my body become too much, but where he did clean he did so lovingly. No matter what Solas put his mind to he did so with overpowering passion. He loved and hated as a fire consumes everything in its path. It was that passion that had drawn me to him. It was that passion that had torn me out of my complacency.

He laced his fingers with magic as he ghosted over the bruise he had left on my neck, removing the evidence of our love-making. Our moment had passed and it was time to return to the others.

They gave us questioning looks but thankfully said nothing. Even Cole did not announce our lustful thoughts to the entire group. I suspected Fen’Harel had something to do with that - he had a power over spirits he rarely utilized in deference to their free will. We sat with them for a time, listening to Varric spin stories. Even Solas joined in. Eventually it was time to sleep, and we retired to separate bedrolls.

I awoke the next morning to the smell of a campfire. I left the confines of my tent to investigate, finding Solas staring into the flames. He had enchanted them to stay lit despite the steady rain that had started to fall. He made no move to greet me so I sat down beside him silently. He sipped from a metal cup with a look of disgust playing on his face. Curious, I helped myself to a cup of the liquid.

“You are drinking tea?” I asked incredulously.

He clutched the bridge of his nose. “Yes. Much as I detest the stuff, I need to shake the dreams from my mind this morning.” He turned to me, his obvious aggravation softening a bit. “I need your help, _vhenan_. My friend, a spirit of wisdom I met after awakening from _uthenera_ , has been summoned against its will. It has never been one to fight. It loves philosophy and literature, not the taking of life, yet these mages have foolishly sought it out for some unknown purpose. The site is not far from here. Please, will you go with me?”

“Of course.”

Visual relief spread over his face. “Thank you.”

“Prepare whatever we might need while I wake some of the others.”

I decided to wake Cassandra and Cole, leaving a note for the other two. Dorian invariably got angry when woken and Varric had less experience fighting mages or dealing with spirits than Cassandra and Cole. We soon set out to find his friend.

 

“We can break the binding circle, Solas. We just need to disrupt the Summoning Stones.”

He nodded. “Thank you.” The mage we had encountered looked like he would try to protest but the murderous look on my face silenced him. He backed away as I gathered the others to me.

“Cassandra, you should engage Solas’s friend. Don’t put yourself in unnecessary danger but try not to harm it if possible. Our intention is not to kill it but to free it from the bonds those mages created. Keep it away from the pillars so we can destroy them.” She nodded, unhooking her shield from her back in preparation.

“Cole, I want you to do as much damage as you can to those stones.”

“Yes.”

“I will act as the offensive mage while Solas will assist me until healing is needed. Are we ready?”

“We must hurry,” Solas said, his hands tight on his staff and a snarl corrupting his face.

The battle commenced. Cassandra went first, taunting the pride demon towards her location. Cole and I descended on the pillars but Solas beat us to them with an immediate Fade step. He blast five fireballs from his staff in quick succession. It seems he would throw caution to the wind in this battle.

A few more spells and a couple dagger stabs were enough to finish of the first. I glanced over to Cassandra. She had a bloodied lip but otherwise looked unharmed. Solas had moved onto the next one and was focused totally and completely on it. I motioned to Cole and we moved onto another one, leaving Solas to vent his anger on the stone.

After we took down the third I heard Cassandra yell, “Inquisitor! Solas needs help! It will not respond to my taunts!”

I turned, seeing the demon descend on Solas. He looked exhausted, having expended nearly all his mana in his quest for vengeance. I watched, horrified, as the demon crushed him in its electrified grip. “No!” The word blurted from my mouth as I surged myself across the battlefield. I threw a stun at the demon, knocking it back.

“Take care of the rest!” I yelled to the others before turning to Solas.

His body was not moving. After everything that had happened to lose him to this would be unbearable. I would not accept it. I refused. I concentrated my mana into a shining emerald globe around his body, infusing his skin with my lifeforce. It pulsed red as I felt the connection tear at my skin, boiling my blood. I was glad that Cassandra was too involved with the fight to see me now. This spell would no doubt be considered blood magic to her.

“Mala din’an tel’sahlin. Elvhen nuvenas ma.” I poured my spirit into his, my veins burning. The globe turned bright red as my eyelids became heavy. Then I felt a twitch, a slightly movement in the sphere. I smiled, pouring the remainder of my power through him and leaving myself on the brink of death. The globe disintegrated as Solas sat up with a gasp of breath. I smiled, collapsing.

“Inquisitor!” The voice sounded so far away. I was in darkness, the void glittering in the distance. Had I given him too much of my lifeforce? Would I die?

I felt warm hands on my sides. “She’s so cold,” said a voice. A woman.

“Keep rubbing circles into her skin.” A man this time. My wolf. I felt my body warm as I pulled energy from the earth around me.

“What is happening, Solas?” I opened my eyes to see Cassandra looking down at me. She gasped, her eyes soft. “Inquisitor, you are alive. How can that be?” Solas sat to her right, a look of relief evident on his face.

“The Earth, it healed me.” I motioned to the large circle of dead grass that now surrounded us. “Where is Cole?”

“He is destroying the final pillar to interrupt the summoning. It should end soon,” Solas explained.

“You want to help him. Go.”

“Only if you are certain.”

“Yes, go,” commanded. He nodded, Fade stepping over to Cole to help him. The tightness in the air the stones had created vanished soon afterwards. “They have finished it. Cassandra, would you mind helping me up?”

“Are you sure that is advisable?”

“Yes, I’m fine. I used up a lot of my mana when I healed Solas, but I’m better now,” I lied. She did not need to know how close I had come to dying in Solas’s place. “Please.”

She nodded, pulling me up gently and hooking her arm under mine. We walked over to the others slowly with Cassandra supporting most of my weight. I watched as the pride demon convalesced into the shape of an elvhen woman. A twinge of jealousy shot through me but I immediately told myself off. Solas had thought me dead. Whatever he had done in the intervening time was not my business.

Solas sat down in front of it. I could not see his face but I knew that it was breaking. “ _Lethallin ir abelas._ ”

“ _Tel’abelas. Enasal. Ir tel’him. Ma melava halani. Mala suledin nadas._ ” The spirit glanced over at me, looking into my eyes briefly, then returned to Solas. “ _Ma ghilana mir din’an_.”

Solas was silent for a moment. I could feel the untold centuries weigh down on him. “ _Ma nuvenin_.” He brought his hands towards himself, releasing the spirit back into the Fade. It disappeared, a smile spreading across its face. “ _Dareth shiral._ ”

“Emma ir abelas, Solas. Aravas atishan _,_ ” I said, ignoring the confused look on Cassandra’s face.

He nodded slowly. “Ma serannas. Banal revas. Ar enasalin nadas.” He turned towards the mages, a sneer on his face. “ _All that remains now is them_.”

The leader looked prematurely relieved. “ _Thank you. We would not have risked a summoning, but the roads are too dangerous to travel unprotected._ ”

Solas descended upon them. “ _You tortured and killed my friend._ ”

The mage backed up, shaking his head. “ _We didn’t know it was just a spirit! The book said it could help us!_ ”

Whatever else the man might had offered in his defense was consumed by the wraith of Fen’Harel. I watched as he burned the mages beyond the point of recognition, but I could not look away. His sins were my sins. I was the harbinger not of Andraste but of the Lord of Tricksters. I was the prelude to the nightmare. No matter what he had done to this world and my kin that had never changed. We were irrevocably bound together in this world and the next.

Much of my energy returned I moved toward him but he turned away. “Ir abelas. Ma lasa melana.” His voice was heavy with sorrow, but he was unwilling to let me see his grief. For all the things that had changed over the millennia in Solas, his pride remained intact. It was an integral part of him that would never be lost.

“If that is what you need.” The back of his head nodded before he walked off with slouching shoulders. Cassandra helped me as we stumbled back towards camp. Hopefully he would emerge from his melancholy soon.

“What did he say?” Cassandra asked after a short time.

“That he needs some time to himself.”

“I did not realize you spoke Dalish.”

“Elvhen,” I corrected. “Solas has been teaching me some.” I wondered how long I could use that lie until they realized I knew far too much for a novice student. We would have to be more careful. I smiled to myself. How easy it had become to refer to Solas and I as “we”.

Varric and Dorian had woken up by the time we returned and were sitting next to the fire now that the rain had stopped. They looked up as we approached. “What happened to you? Where’s Chuckles?”

“I’m alright. I just need some lyrium. Solas will be back soon, I hope.”

“Solas didn’t need to kill them. He is not vengeance.”

I smiled sadly at the spirit, sitting down on a rock. “I know, Cole.”

“What happened?” Dorian asked, passing me a lyrium potion. I downed it in a few gulps, my powers returning. My body began to heal itself, my tired veins cooling under the wave of mana.

I shook my head. “I would rather not talk about it.”

I returned to my tent for a couple of hours of dreamless sleep. The mark may have made my magic unstable, but it also allowed me to connect to the Fade and pull energy from it more easily. I infused myself with its energy as I slept, reinvigorating my body.

I awoke refreshed and I exited the tent, walking over to my friends who were discussing the ball at the Winter Palace. They quieted when I approached, all eyes turning to me. “Please don’t stop on my account.”

“Are you alright, Inquisitor?” Cassandra asked. She looked a tad suspicious but let it drop. She had not seen how much of myself I had poured into Solas.

“Much better, thank you. I think I would actually like to visit the Dalish now while Solas is elsewhere.”

“You sure, Vines? They aren’t the friendliest bunch.”

“So I’ve heard but I want to...need to see for myself.”

“Well then if it’s all the same to you I think I’ll just sit here on my ass and begin the next chapter of my new work.” Cassandra perked up at this, glancing over at Varric with eager eyes. He shot her a knowing grin and she immediately began inspecting her gauntlets for damage, heat tickling her cheeks. “Enjoy your elves though,” Varric added.

“I’d like to see these Dalish,” Dorian said. “We don’t have any of their clans in Tevinter.”

“Too many slavers?” I asked.

“Ah, yes.” He looked embarrassed. “Do you mind if I tag along, Sahlin?”

“Not at all, although I can’t say how welcoming they will be.”

He shrugged. “What southerner is?”

Cole and Cassandra stayed with Varric as Dorian and I made our way towards the camp. The plains were beautiful now that we had dealt with the undead. I could see why the shemlen elves had chosen to make their empire here. I smiled as we passed a grazing halla herd, but they scattered when Dorian spoke.

“You really don’t want to talk about Solas?”

I sighed. “He burned a group of mages who had turned his friend into a demon to until they were nothing but ash. It’s not really a pleasing topic.”

“Really? So there is a beast under that calm facade?”

I chuckled. “You have no idea.”

He wiggled his eyebrows at me. “I did notice you two were both gone rather a long time last night. Do any beast taming?”

“Is the vulgarity reaching even our well-educated altus now? I thought Iron Bull and Blackwall had the market cornered by now.”

“Don’t forget Sera. She doesn’t know what she’s saying half the time, but it’s usually full of unintentional innuendo.”

“True. Those conversations about your ‘tool’ do ring a bell now that you mention it.”

He colored pink. “Don’t remind me of that, please.”

   

We reached the Dalish camp. It was small, a few halla and carts I supposed must aravels. We had never used them in Elvhenan despite what the Dalish believed. Why would have any need for such things with the eluvian network? But then that had been lost to the ages as well. There was now nowhere for these shemlen elves to hide from their enemies.

One of their hunters came up to us as we approached their camp. The distinctive vines of Elgar’nan marred his otherwise handsome face. An immediate feeling of pity crept into my mind but I reminded myself he had voluntarily chosen to mark his face with the brand. He did not understand what it meant.

“Halt. What business do you have with the Dalish?” he asked, drawing his bow and pointing the arrow at me. I ignored his blatant threat but could sense Dorian ripple the Veil as he prepared for battle. I held a hand to him, shaking my head.

“Andaran atishan, lethallin _._ I am the Inquisitor and this is my companion Dorian. We have come to greet your Keeper and people.”

“Your Inquisition has no say here, flat-ear. Take your shem friend and return to where you came from.”

Another approached. He had an older face, lines etched along his forehead where Andruil’s arrow tainted his skin. In another time those wrinkles would have meant little but now physical age often corresponded with wisdom. He had an aura of magic about him and the undeniable air of someone important.

“It is alright, da’len. Let the Inquisitor pass.”

“Ma nuvenin, Keeper.” The hunter stared daggers at us as we passed him. Solas had not been wrong about these elves.

“I apologize for Anthris. Our people are wary of strangers with good reason. I am Keeper Hawen, Inquisitor. Tell me, what brings the Inquisition here?”

“We came to the area on a request from Orlais. This is, however, not an official visit but rather one more of a personal nature. I was hoping you might tell me more about your people. I am not sure how much your clan has heard about the Conclave but the events wiped my memory. All I know of the Dalish is from books and word of mouth.”

“Books? You must not know much then. Almost all of our history is preserved in oral traditions.” He paused, taking a quick glance at Dorian. “Very well. You are not the first elf from the shemlen cities to come to the Dalish for answers, da’len. I would be happy to teach you whatever I can.” This man saw me as a little child? They were certainly arrogant about their false histories. I hoped my annoyance did not seep into my tone when I thanked him.

He led us to the center of the camp where they had erected a fire pit but on a warm spring day such as this it remained unlit. Keeper Hawen directed us to the logs that lined the pit, sitting down across from Dorian and me. Dorian seemed content to let me do the talking, not that I blamed him. I was a bit jealous that he could be so detached.

“Tell me, what would you like to know, Inquisitor? Is it the history of the people you seek or Dirthavaren?”

“‘The promise’?”

“You can speak some of the old language. Very few outside of the Dalish can, or try.”

“I have a good teacher.” The lie came easily.

“I see. Dirthavaren is the name for this place. This is the land the shemlen gave us when we fled their slavery. They have since taken it back, but we will wait for their empires to die, keeping to the old ways. So the Oath of the Dales states, ‘We are the Dalish: keepers of the lost lore, walkers of the lonely path. We are the last of the Elvhenan, and never again shall we submit.’”

“And what lore is it that you keep?”

“We teach the stories of the Creators, the gods who blessed the people and taught us how to survive, keeping us safe from the Forgotten Ones and those who would do us harm. We teach the story of the Great Betrayal of the Dread Wolf, who locked away our gods because he was not fond of the people and wished power for himself. We teach the Way of the Three Trees to every Dalish child so he will know that together we are strong. We teach of the home we once had, a great empire that spanned all the land. But what does the herald of a shemlen god care for such things?”

“It is the shemlen that named me their herald. I was thrown into the role, not the other way around,” I replied.

“You are right, of course. The shemlen would never choose one of the people as their leader if they could avoid it.”

“Tell me, Keeper, why do you wear the vallaslin?”

“It honors the Creators. We give ourselves into their service once we reach adulthood, asking for their blessing.”

“Does binding yourself to your gods not diminish your freedom?”

“No.”

“But surely-”

“You came here seeking wisdom but bring only derision. You understand nothing. You are just like the humans.”

“Ir abelas. I did not mean to offend you.”

“You may not have intended it but the damage is done nonetheless. There can be nothing more for us to speak of.”

A halla came to me then, sensing the tension in the air. They were incredibly intelligent animals, one of the few gifts the Evanuris had given us worth preserving. She nuzzled my shoulder, her brown eyes boring into me. She had a beautiful coat of gold.

One of the other Dalish rushed over. “The Hanal'ghilan! Why does she favor a flat-ear?”

I petted the halla’s head. “Perhaps she looks past my unmarked face and sees I am elvhen no matter what mark I wear.” I let a bit of magic flow through the animal, checking her for injuries and healing her tired muscles. “Ma ghilana shemlen revasan, da’halla. Ma las sethlen atisha.”

I spoke the words through my magic, pleading with the creature to show the Dalish they were wrong. I could not. Solas was right that they would not listen. It was in the children I would have to seed the question and let it bloom into change. Yet I saw very few children in their camp. The Dalish were dying and what was left of my people with them.

I stood up as the halla followed the Dalish man back to the rest of their herd. I nodded to the Keeper feeling defeated. “I suppose it is time for us to go. Dorian?”

“Yes of course.” He got up and followed me. The Dalish made no attempt to stop us. As we made our way back to the ruined bathhouse Dorian periodically glanced over at me but made no effort to speak. Eventually I stopped, turning to him.

“You want to say something.”

“What? No.”

“Come on, Dorian. It’s not like you keep quiet.”

He laughed. “True enough. I wanted to say that I’m sorry, Sahlin. They were not quite what you hoped, were they?”

“No they were not.”

“They’d fit in quite well in Minrathous with those haughty attitudes of theirs.”

“Except for the elf part.”

“Well, there is that.”

“I heard you once say to Sera that you had never spoken to an elf who wasn’t a slave before coming to the south.”

“Ah, you heard that? I lived a very sheltered life.”

“It wasn’t an accusation, Dorian. It’s just sad that is what the lives of elves have come to. I had hoped the Dalish would be different but they aren’t much better, are they?”

“Then try to make it better. If anyone can do it, it’s you Sahlin. For my part when this is all over I think I will return to Tevinter. It could use a bit freshening up, don’t you think?”

I smiled. “You are a good man, Dorian.”

“I am, aren’t I?” I laughed and he threw his arm around my shoulder. “Now, how about we go kill something? I know that always improves my mood.”

“In what arena might this killing be taking place? I’ve heard quite a few battle cries coming from your chambers recently.”

He stammered for a moment while attempting to come up with a plausible lie. “Uh...yes well, I like to practice.”

“Last I checked your voice didn’t have quite the same timbre as the Iron Bull.” He turned a violent pink. “Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me. Unless of course you would like Varric to write a short story about it. I am sure he would be happy to interview you.”

“You wouldn’t.”

I giggled. “No more encouraging Cullen, then.”

“You have a deal.”

“Excellent.”

He shook his head. “Now I know what it feels like to be one of those Orlesian nobles. Your negotiation skills are terrifying.”

“I like to think so.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title taken from The Long Walk as told by Gisharel, Keeper of the Ralaferin clan of Dalish elves
> 
> Mala din’an tel’sahlin. Elvhen nuvenas ma. = Your death has not come. The people need you.  
> Lethallin ir abelas. = Friend I am sorry.  
> Tel’abelas. Enasal. Ir tel’him. Ma melava halani. Mala suledin nadas. Ma ghilana mir din'an. = Don't be. I am happy. I am me again. You have already helped me. You must endure. Guide me into my death.  
> Ma nuvenin. Dareth shiral. = As you wish. Safe journey.  
> Emma ir abelas, Solas. Aravas atishan. = I am so sorry, Solas. It is at peace.  
> Ma serannas. Banal revas. Ar enasalin nadas. = Thank you. This is not freedom. I must succeed.  
> Ir abelas. Ma lasa melana. = I'm sorry. Give me some time.  
> Andaran atishan, lethallin = Enter this place of peace, friend (a Dalish greeting)  
> Ma nuvenin = As you wish  
> Ir abelas = I'm sorry  
> Hanal'ghilan = The pathfinder, a legendary halla that is golden in color that comes to the Dalish in their times of need  
> Ma ghilana shemlen revasan, da’halla. Ma las sethlen atisha. = Guide the quicklings to a place of freedom, little halla. Grant the fragile children peace.


	15. These trees grew into a mighty wood

Solas did not return to us that night in either the waking world or the Fade. It was not until the next morning that I was awoken by the unmistakable pull of his aura. I rose, throwing on a simple tunic, and went to greet him.

I found him sitting on a boulder outside of the bathhouse. He did not look at me when I approached but I knew he had recognized my presence. We were forever attached by an invisible string woven through the Veil.

I climbed up next to him, taking his hand in mine. He looked over at me with a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. I spoke our language freely now that the others were not around. “Are you all right?” I asked.

“No, not really. _It hurts. It always does, but I will survive_.”

I squeezed his hand softly. “You never had to grieve alone, Solas.”

“I...yes. I know, but it would have been selfish of me to ask you to provide any form of comfort.”

“Perhaps it is time we both forgive you, vhenan.” His eyes tightened at the sound of my endearment. I was surprised how easily those words fell from my mouth. Once they were said, however, it felt right to bury the hatchet between us. I did not agree with his plans but that did not mean we could not work towards a common goal. I was determined to find another solution, together.

“Thank you. I cannot say I deserve it, but I am grateful.”

“Ar lath ma _._ I always have.”

“As I love you.” He pulled my lips to his, opening them to a slow kiss. I melted into him, trying to take on some of the burden of his sadness. Our mouths parted, an ocean of loneliness and hope filling in his eyes as they begged answers from mine. After a pause he stretched out along the rock, lying his head in my lap as I drew circles behind his ear.

“You saved my life yet again yesterday. I was so immersed in my goal that I neglected to thank you.”

“You never need to thank me for that.”

He turned his to look up at my face. “That magic is dangerous, vhenan.”

“I know. I saw what it did to Falon’Din just as you did. It worked though.”

“It did,” he responded but his eyes looked far away.

“What is it?”

“It will prove challenging to defeat them once the Veil is gone.”

“I’m sure you have a plan.”

“I do, but I am not quite ready to speak of it yet.”

“Very well. Come, I can hear the others waking. We should try to get to the Emerald Graves by midmorning.”

He nodded, rising, and we walked back toward the camp. Dorian and Varric sat by a newly formed fire, Cassandra busily packing up the campsite. “You two could assist me!” she exclaimed at them.

“But you’re doing such a good job Seeker. We’d only get in the way.” Varric turned towards us as we entered the clearing, glancing between us with a smirk. “Welcome back Chuckles. Going for a morning stroll I see. Care to elaborate on what you saw?”

Solas ignored Varric’s request entirely, turning to Cassandra. “I truly appreciate your help yesterday Seeker,” he said to her.

“I am sorry about your...friend,” she replied.

“Thank you. May I help you with breaking up camp? I believe the Inquisitor might need a moment to change into her armor before we set out.”

 

We left an hour later, heading for the forests of the Emerald Graves. I had read that the trees were placed there to represent all the elves that had died fighting the conquering shemlen armies, but when we reached their towering canopies I was unprepared for the despair that gripped me. So much death. So much useless loss of life. I suppose all creators fear the day their creations overpower them.

We walked for a while in silence, all taking in the somber atmosphere. I could not help but feel that this would be a nice place to rest. It was peaceful here, even if the shemlen lords had started filling it with mansions. The earth was fertile, sacred even. Long ago this area had belonged to Falon’Din, and the owls still attested to that fact. There were hints of Dirthamen’s influence here and there, too, as was custom for areas belonging to the friend of the dead. It was strange that the Dalish should believe them twins when they were so much more. Twinned souls I had heard spoken as well, which perhaps better explained the love between the two men. They had connected themselves together much as Solas and I had. The Eternal Binding, the Final Vow.

The area that Fairbanks had set up camp was guarded by the hooded figure of Dirthamen, the Watcher as he was called now. It had been a cave where his followers had collected together to share their stories, one the great meeting places of academics from my time. Solas had often attended these events in the past, being one of the great thinkers of my era. I had been too young to spend much time in such places. Even after my father had eventually relented to allowing me somewhat free movement around the world he still kept a restless eye on me.

We made a small fire sometime after midday just outside the camp and sat down to break our fast. After settling in with a generous helping of roast chicken, Dorian chose to resume his newfound favorite pastime.

“We have a village called Solas in Tevinter,” he said to the Dread Wolf.

Solas sighed. I did not envy him the interrogations Dorian chose to subject him to. “So I have been told,” he replied tiredly, turning over the wild chickens he was roasting. He decreased the flames with a flick of his wrist to slow the process.

“No desire to go there then?”

“Would you go somewhere simply because it was named ‘Dorian’?”

“Absolutely. Imagine how fashionable such a people would be!”

“Ah yes, how foolish of me to forget the fundamental role fashion plays in ascertaining the value of a people.”

“I would hope you’re wrong about that for your sake, Solas.”

“How kind of you to think of me.”

I laughed despite myself. Dorian was trying so hard to get Solas to like him even when the entirety of the remnants of our people cursed his name. It was almost comical if not unbearably sad.

“What about you, Sahlin? Surely you would like to live in our hypothetical town of Dorian.” Dorian asked, tapping his chin. “That one particular set of orange armor will have to go though,” he finally concluded.

“That I can agree to. I wish Josephine would let me throw it out. I honestly think the nobles gave it to me just so I would make an ass out of myself.”

“The chosen pastime of Orlesians everywhere,” Varric added.

“Don’t say that too loudly. There are still a few of Celene’s men making the rounds,” I replied. I glanced over at the chickens Solas had finished cooking. He smiled, passing me one without a word. The others exchanged glances but I pretended not to notice. Things were almost returning to how they once had been between us.

Solas had always had a strange knack for fulfilling my needs without me having to voice them even before the binding ritual. I had asked him once and he had attributed it to his past as a spirit before Andruil had forced him into the physical world. “The voices of the minds around me are much quieter than they once were, but not yours. Perhaps it is because of your strong magical connection. You have a unique and beautiful soul,” he had said.

My ears tinted pink as I remembered the events of the remainder of that night. Solas shot me a confused but not altogether innocent look but I diverted my eyes lest they give away what I was remembering to the entire party. It seemed wrong to think of making love when we were surrounded by reminders of the fall of the elves, yet I could not help the urge that suddenly overwhelmed me.

I buried the desire down deep. Now was not the time. We would be returning to Skyhold soon, perhaps then. My stomach somersaulted at the thought.

We broke camp and made our way towards the Freemen camp. Soon we would put an end to their meddling.

 

We made our way back to Skyhold once we eliminated the lingering threat of the Freemen. They would not be bothering Celene any longer. Undoubtedly when the time came we would value the opportunity to move troops freely across the Dales.

Skyhold almost felt like home now. It was true that the land would always feel sacred regardless of the presence or absence of the Inquisition, but it was also beginning to feel like it was our fortress, not just the place where Solas had locked away the Fade so long ago. The soldiers greeted us at the gate, bowing their heads as I approached. The troops seemed to become more zealous with each passing day. A fear in the back of my head had been growing recently that soon I would attain godhood myself, something I had seen destroy so many of my brethren. I hoped I would never become the monsters so many of them had turned into in their lust for more power.

We went our separate ways once we got to the fortress, each going off to find his or her own form of rest and relaxation. Dorian made a beeline for the barracks where Iron Bull could usually be found. I smiled to myself. He was much more transparent than he thought he was. Varric and Cassandra soon left to their respective rooms, but Solas lingered by my side.

He walked me to my quarters. “I thought you might need assistance with the Anchor,” he offered once we reached the door.

“Yes, it does seem to be acting up today. Perhaps it yearns to be reunited with its source.”

His lips twitched. “An intriguing idea. I would welcome the opportunity to investigate that theory further.” No doubt the slight inflection of his tone was lost on the human ears listening in.

“I think we have some time before dinner. Would you like to come in? I can explain it to you in detail.”

 

We reappeared for dinner separately, Solas Fade stepping back his quarters to change before coming to sit with us. If our companions knew what had occupied us both for the last three hours they did not mention it. Iron Bull invited us all to drinks at the tavern but I declined. Exhaustion took me soon afterward.

Leliana greeted me the next morning, slipping out of the shadows once I had left my quarters. “Inquisitor,” she began, “Morrigan arrived while you were in traveling in the Dales. I would appreciate it if you would speak to her. I have had...dealings with her in the past. I do not trust she has come here only to help us. Her methods have always been selfish in nature.”

“Very well. Where is she?”

“The garden. Be cautious.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from In Pursuit of Knowledge: The Travels of a Chantry Scholar by Brother Genitivi.
> 
> Ar lath ma = I love you


	16. In the absence of light, shadows thrive

I preferred the Skyhold garden in the early hours of the day. The sun streaked down from the east, lighting up the faces of the flowers as they soaked up its rays. It reminded me briefly of the ancient elven legends of how Mythal and Elgar’nan had begun the path towards godhood. I had spent quite a few mornings in its beauty, remembering the old times. This morning, however, I was greeted by an unfamiliar child. _“You’re the Inquisitor. Mother never told me the Inquisitor was an elf.”_

I turned to the child’s voice. “I am. And who might your mother be?” There was something about him but I could not place it. He looked a normal human child.

 _“Mother is the inheritor, she who awaits the next age._ Your blood is very old, Inquisitor. Older than the ones who worship what she once was but do not understand her. _”_

Morrigan approached us as I tried to decipher his meaning. His way of speaking reminded me of a spirit, or perhaps someone translating directly from Elvhen into Common. It was difficult to convey the same meaning when so much of how my people spoke the ancient tongue relied on the receiving party having magic. _“Kieran, are you bothering the Inquisitor?”_ she asked, pulling me out of my revine.

_“Of course not. Did you see what’s on her hand, Mother?”_

_“I did see. ‘Tis time to return to your studies, little man.”_ The boy sighed, walking off.

She chuckled. _“My son. Never where you expect to find him, naturally.”_

“He is a special boy, certainly. There is...something there. Power perhaps?”

“I am surprised you noticed, Inquisitor. Kieran is quite a special young man, yes. I have raised him as best I could despite some challenges. _No son of mine would be raised in a marsh, bereft of contact with the outside world. His future will be difficult enough without my adding to his burden._ ” I thought momentarily of my life, cut off from the world outside of the realm I had once called my own for so long. Perhaps I had been too quick to judge this woman. There was certainly more to her and her son than I had originally thought at Halamshiral.

“What do you think of Skyhold?” I asked.

“ _This fortress was built upon the remains of a site holy to the ancient elves_. _They called it Tarasyl’an Te’las, ‘the place where the sky was held back.’_ _It is said that from here, they reached up to the heavens to bring them down to rest_. I am told an elf named Solas led you here. I wonder if he knows what he has discovered.” I resisted the urge to tell her that he knew exactly where he had brought us, although I could not help my slightly cross tone.

“Any mage could sense the ancient magics here.  It is sacred, fertile. It has become a good home for the Inquisition. I am grateful for Solas’s help in locating it.”

“Indeed. I think you may do it justice, Inquisitor. For now, we have more pressing matters to discuss. I have heard that your scouts have traced Corypheus to the Arbor Wilds. I know why he marches there.”

“I had heard those accounts as well. I would be grateful for your insight.”

“ _What Corypheus seeks in those forgotten woods is as ancient as it is dangerous._ If you will follow me, Inquisitor, I will show you.” I nodded my assent.

She led me to a room off the garden where she had been seen periodically sneaking off by Leliana’s people. I stopped, awestruck, as I took in the eluvian before me. It had not faced the centuries very well, but Morrigan had done a good job restoring it. It shimmered that familiar blue, calling me towards it like a pleasant hum on the air.

“This is an eluvian, though by your expression I assume you have heard of them before.”

“Yes. I have spent a great deal of time studying elven history since the Breach, trying to regain some of my identity.”

“Indeed? I do not know of many who know of their existence.”

I would give away too much if I spoke too freely. I took an internal breath, trying to recall all the books I had studied prior to learning the truth of my lineage. One had referred to the great mirrors, although it had been insufferably vague. Still, perhaps the limited information could appease Morrigan.

“I read a very old manuscript written by a Tevinter scholar who studied them. He said they were used as some sort of communication device.”

“That is not quite accurate, but I have heard them called such. _I restored this one at great cost, but another lies within the Arbor Wilds_ . That _is was Corypheus seeks._ ”

“Why do you believe that?”

“ _I found legends of an elven temple within the Arbor Wilds, untouched. It proved too dangerous to approach, and thus I turned elsewhere to find my prize._ Corypheus could succeed where I failed.”

“I see. And this one works? How?” I replied.

She waved her hand along the glass, ripples moving out from where she ghosted over it. It was active then. How had she unlocked it? It must have taken a very long time if she did not possess the key. “Follow me and you shall see for yourself.”

She walked through the glass, ripples forming in her wake. I took a breath, following her in. It led to Belshiralan, as I had known it would. This place felt like Skyhold only stronger, familiar and welcoming. My muscles pulsed with energy, mana collecting in my palms easily until I willed it away.

“ _If this place once had a name, it has long been lost. I call it the Crossroads, a place where all eluvians join...wherever they might be_ ,” Morrigan said. There was a tone of awe in her voice. Her name for this place was surprisingly similar to its Elvhen name, “the place of many journeys”. Despite not being an elf she seemed to have a great deal of knowledge about our forgotten culture. More so than the Dalish clan I had heard about. Where had she acquired it all?

“Then these mirrors allowed the elves to journey to different places?” I asked.

“Indeed. _The ancient elves left no roads, only ruins hidden in far-flung corners. This is how they traveled between them_.”

“So they are doors, passageways?”

“Yes, though few remain open from this side. A key is required to access many of those from the world beyond.”

“You fear that Corypheus will find this key and use the eluvian at the temple you spoke of to access this place.”

“I do. This place is not the Fade, but it is very similar. If Corypheus poured enough power into the barrier between worlds, he could gain that which he seeks.”

“Access to the Black City.”

She nodded. “We should make haste to the Arbor Wilds to ensure he does not succeed, together.” I followed her to the eluvian we had come through, taking a final glance behind me before I left. I missed this place.

She deactivated it again once I stepped out of it, the hum ceasing. “I await your order to move, Inquisitor.” She walked off, leaving me in the room with the ancient treasure.

I stared at the mirror for a few moments, contemplating what she had said. Which temple lay in this Arbor Wilds? I would have to consult a map. If it was the temple I believed it to be, there could be more at stake than just accessing the Fade.

I moved quickly now, as if Corypheus himself bit at my heels. Whether it was excitement at finding knowledge of a potentially unplundered temple or my fear Corypheus would succeed that led me onward was difficult to say.

I made my way to the library, stopping in mid-step as I spotted Solas hunched over an old book. He looked up when I stopped, his brows furrowing. “Is there something you needed, Sahlin?”

“Yes. Come with me, please.”

“As you wish.” He bookmarked the page he had been studying and followed me up the stairs. I made my way over to one of the archivists.

“Excuse me. I need to see a map of southern Thedas that includes the Arbor Wilds.”

“Of course, Inquisitor. Right this way.” He led me to a drafting table with various rolled up maps scattered around a large map of the entirety of Thedas. He picked one up, opening it and nodding to himself before flattening it on top of the Thedas map. “Here is Skyhold,” he said, pointing to a place in the middle of the map. “This region down here is called the Arbor Wilds.” He circled a region in the south with his forefinger.

“I see, thank you,” I replied. “Can I borrow this?”

“Please do.” I smiled, rolling up the map and taking it with me. Solas followed me without comment, content to wait for me to speak, as I made my way back to the eluvian. I clocked us in shadows so we could avoid any prying eyes.

He stopped abruptly once we had made it into the room, staring up at the mirror in surprise. “An intact eluvian. Where did you find it?” he asked.

“Morrigan brought it with her. She believes Corypheus is looking for one in a temple in the Arbor Wilds.”

“That is why you consulted that map.”

“Yes, I was trying to figure out which temple she might be referring to. A temple in the south...”

He paused for a moment, a troubling look making its way onto his face. “The Temple of Justice lies in that wood, but that may mean it is not the eluvian that he seeks.”

“That was my fear as well. Could he even use the Vir'abelasan? It took years for the initiated priestesses to prepare.”

“He may not gain all they did from its consumption, but it could prove an asset to his plans. Perhaps he hopes that the ancient wisdom of Mythal will grant him the ability to access the Fade in the flesh. Regardless of his motives, we cannot allow that happen.”

“No we cannot. I will have to speak with the Commander about preparations.” I watched as he inspected the mirror before us. He drew his hand across its face, then frowned when it did not shimmer at his touch.

“Would you like to go inside? I doubt the network has been available to you since awakening.”

He smiled. “I would like to, if you would be kind enough to open it for me.”

I nodded, walking over to the eluvian. I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath, then pushed outwards with my hands. I moved them up the glass, never quite touching it, until it began to glow blue, humming its familiar song. I opened my eyes again, turning to Solas.

“I would like you to come with me once we go to the Wilds. The preparations are already underway, but we plan to leave tomorrow.”

“You did not think I would allow you to fight Corypheus on your own, did you?”

I smiled. “No, of course not.”

“I will be back by nightfall...Thank you for this, vhenan.”

“You are welcome. I wish I could go with you.”

“As do I, but you must assist in the preparations. You are certain you will not need me beforehand?”

“I am certain. I will set up wards around the doorway. You can deactivate them once you return. Dareth shiral, vhenan.” He walked into the mirror.

I placed the wards as promised then returned to the world outside. I grabbed a messenger, asking him to gather together my advisors at the War Table. He nodded, bowing, and rushed off. Soon we would head to the Arbor Wilds. Soon we would head to the final battle, one of the great battles of this age.

 

I left the confines of the War Room once all the preparations had been made and returned to my quarters. I glanced at the fireplace, already burning away, and the snacks that had been left for me by Shania. I had told her not to wait for me, but apparently that had not stopped her from seeing to my needs. I smiled to myself. She was a truly excellent servant.

Tonight, however, it was not a warm fire and a basket of muffins that I needed. I was weary, weary to my very bones, but sleep would not come to me. My mind was too busy, alight with fears of what might happen if we failed to reach the Arbor Wilds in time. I sighed to myself, walking out onto one of the balconies into the cold night air. I folded my arms across the stone banister, watching the small snowflakes fall down around me. I could hear soldiers yelling to one another down below, making any last-minute arrangements. Still, it was peaceful up here.

I held up a palm, catching the flakes with my magic and making them dance in the air. It has a trick I had perfected as a child. The gilded cage I had lived in never had seasons without me imagining them, but I had loved to make the snow fall down on spring grasses.

“I remember the joy with which you demonstrated that technique so long ago.” I did not turn to look at the owner of the voice.

“You were the only link I had to the outside world aside from my parents and brother. I was always excited to play with you.” Solas walked over to me, coming to my side and wrapping his arms around me. We remained silent for a while, watching the snow come down. Eventually I spoke. “Did you go home?” I asked.

“I did. It has stood the passing of time well, but without you and our friends the place felt empty.”

“Did the Veil drive them mad?”

“I do not believe so. Most likely they moved on, returning to the Veil or passing into the realm of mortals. Lifeless stones and overgrown forests can only maintain the interest of spirits for so long.”

“I hope they were not pulled through unwillingly.”

“As do I. Come inside, Isala. The wind is getting stronger.” I nodded my assent and allowed Solas to lead me back into the room. “Let me prepare a bath for you.”

“You don’t have to do that, vhenan.”

“I do not, but I want to.” He deposited me onto one of the chairs in front of the fireplace and walked behind the screen to get the bath. He held up his hand, pulling the snow from the outside through the room and into the tub, melting it until the water steamed. He closed the windows then came over to me, holding out his hand. I smiled, taking it, and he led me to his creation. He proceed to carefully undress me, his fingers lingering on my hips as he pulled down the last piece of cloth.

“You’re coming in, too,” I stated, pulling on his belt. He chuckled, undoing his belt and pulling off his tunic. I sunk into the water as he finished undressing, allowing the water to relax my muscles. Solas climbed in afterwards, pulling my back to his chest.

He began to wash me, scrubbing soft circles into my arms and shoulders. When made it to my marked hand he stopped, running a finger along the invisible slit. It flared to life, the Veil becoming slightly thinner around us. “It really does yearn for you, its creator,” I remarked.

“Do you hear the song?” he asked. I closed my eyes and listened, though I did not have to. It was still dull, nothing like what it had been in the time of Arlathan, but I always heard it when the anchor activated. The mark had come from the heart of a Titan and so the durgen’sulahn bled from it.

“Yes,” I answered.

Solas rotated me around so that I faced him, moving me so that my hips straddled his. He guided me onto his length, allowing me to set the pace. I moved slowly, relishing every thrust as it filled me completely. The mark blazed as I sped up the pace, the song becoming louder and louder the faster I moved. It drove me crazy, the power, the passion, the life force. My body was on fire, burning with the desire of the durgen’sulahn. I could feel the curious spirits around us flittering by as the Veil stretched nearly to breaking.

I screamed out as I came, a small tear forming above our heads. My eyes blurred as I came down from the high, but Solas would not relent. He pushed down on top of me, thrusting and pushing mana through me until I wanted to burst. I was already nearing another orgasm when he buried himself to the hilt, groaning in satisfaction as he emptied himself inside of me. I clenched around him, my vision blackening in a pleasing exhaustion.

We waited like that in the water that had gone cold for minutes. Eventually I looked up above us at the tear our lust had created. “I’m not sure I have the energy to close that.”

“Would you allow me to?” he asked. I nodded tiredly. He encircled my marked hand and I felt my shoulder tingle where the Glyph of Control had been burned into my soul long ago. He closed his eyes, passing the power of the anchor through himself to the tear. It stitched together cleanly.

“Well done. Do you now see the reason I wanted you to make the amulet?”

“Yes,” he conceded. “But you did promise not to use it-”

“Until necessary, yes I know.”

He nodded, rising from the tub. He wrapped a towel around himself, grabbing another for me before lifting me up into him arms and toweling me dry. He carried me to the bed, setting me down before getting in himself. I fell asleep in his arms, blissfully content and ready to meet whatever awaited us in the Arbor Wilds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title taken from The Chant of Light, Threnodies 8:21.
> 
> Italics are direct quotations from the game.
> 
> durgen'sulahn = song of the stone, in this case the song that originates from lyrium


	17. And at her touch he grew calm and knew that his angry had led him astray

We had arrived at our destination. I had not been to what was now called the Arbor Wilds for over two thousand years, and the wilderness had not been kind in the intervening centuries. The fountains that littered the expansive cobblestone gathering places had fallen to ruin. The shrines dedicated to teaching the People the path to justice had fallen into the earth. Yet there was little time to mourn the loss of my world. I had to protect the current one.

Morrigan approached me once we had finished preparing for the battle ahead of us, no doubt ready to impart to me more empty Elvhen knowledge. I would play the part that I must.

“ _If your scouts report accurately, I believe these ruins to be the Temple of Mythal_ ,” she explained.

I tried to remind myself ignorance was the best policy. “The elven goddess?”

“Yes. _If Corypheus seeks it, then the eluvian he covets lies within_.” Explosions started in the distance. The little earth my people had would be reduced to ash if my forces were not careful. Morrigan mirrored my sentiment.

Solas, Dorian and Cassandra joined us. The others had gone on ahead with Leliana and Cullen to clear a path for us, and so we began the race against time. I had encountered many elven ruins along our journeys, but this place brought back too many memories. I could feel her pulse within the trees, her blood within the rivers. It was a part of Mythal, and thus a part of me. The witch felt the power as well but could not comprehend what it had been like before the fall of Elvhenan. Solas undoubtedly understood, but he kept quiet as to not antagonize Morrigan too much. She became truly tiresome if provoked too far. This was a time for concentration, not argument.

We walked past the troops, Celene’s forces cheering us as we quickened our pace onward. The fighting was growing louder. Eventually we came upon an encampment stuffed with red templars. To our surprise they were fighting not Inquisition soldiers but elvhen sentinels. Our People were here. They were alive. And yet we must fight them. Was there no way to stem the tide of their blades? Would speaking to them break the lie Solas and I had so carefully cultivated? These sentinels could not mount such an offense without orders. Could Enasal be alive within this forest? And if her sentinels yet lived, could Mythal also exist somewhere in this world as well? Solas seemed to come to same conclusion. Was it hope I heard in his voice when he spoke of them? It was certainly a rare emotion coming from the Dread Wolf as of late.

“ _Perhaps these creatures are the reason few return from the Arbor Wilds_ ,” Morrigan supplied after the fighting had finished. I wanted to scream at her. Creatures? These were my people. She did not understand. I wanted to force her out of her ignorance. She was a foolish shemlen playing the role of Elvhen historian. I would teach her.

Solas felt my anger bend the Veil as magic collected in my palm and stepped to my side. He squeezed my hand in his and I felt the warmth flow through me where his mark flared on my skin in response.

He whispered into my ear, acutely aware that Morrigan had a wider vocabulary of our words than she let on, “Sethlen lathbora viran. Ma garas atishan, en mir lin ghilas haminan.”

“Vir’suledin melava him felas din’an. Mir elgar nuvenas ghilan. Tel’haminan iras var abelshiral halam.” I was thankful that my sorrow forbade my voice from traveling far. It was best to avoid questions about from whence my perfect Elvhen came.

“I know, vhenan,” Solas responded sadly.

I sighed, collecting myself. He let go of my hand once he was sure I had calmed down, and we journeyed towards the main bulk of my soldiers.

I tried not to think too deeply about it, but killing the sentinels left me empty inside. My desire to stop Corypheus, who not only threatened everything I held dear but now also made me feel like a traitor to my kin, intensified. He must be stopped. This destruction must be put at an end.

We reached the Temple soon after leaving the bulk of our force. I felt a whirlwind of memories fly past my eyes as we reached the grand doorway. I watched from the shadows as a young elvhen woman approached the shrine to punish an unfaithful husband. A gluttonous noble called for the favor of Mythal for his new venture of trade with the durgen’lin _._ An ancient woman came to pay her respects before passing into uthenera. Then I returned to the reality: a broken archway and an army of humans. A madman willing to desecrate a sacred place of worship.

We headed in, an eerie silence falling over my party. A group of sentinels stood at the head of the entrance bridge face to face with the magister. He had Samson with him, and surprisingly Grey Wardens rather than Red Templars. The Grey Wardens were fairly skilled warriors, true, but they were mere practice dummies compared with the sheer power red lyrium created in the corrupted templars. Why would he choose them?

The sentinel in front cursed them, but Corypheus took no heed of the elves. “ _These are but remnants. They will not keep us from the Well of Sorrows_.” With a malicious grin Corypheus descended on the remaining sentinels. They activated the wards guarding the temple, willing to sacrifice themselves to protect Vir’abelasan at any cost. I wanted to cry. Was this what we had left?

And with an explosion Corypheus fell. He had died...but then Samson and the others were crossing the bridge with nary a backwards glance. Surely they would stop for their master? “ _It cannot be_!” Morrigan yelled behind me.

I turned. A Grey Warden had fallen...but it was no longer a Grey Warden. There before our eyes Corypheus consumed the body of the blighted Warden from within. A disgusting ability created by a lust for power that should have stayed buried in the intervening centuries. Everything we had fought against those many years ago had come to pass despite our best efforts.

We ran down the bridge, fleeing Corypheus’s dragon as it flew towards us. The Temple would protect us. The wards would keep him at bay, at least for the moment. We entered the temple proper, foliage covering the once sturdy archway. There was a stillness in the air here, secrets left untold for centuries. I could feel the prickling of ancient magic flowing in and out of the physical world like a lazy wave lapping upon a shore. It lingered in the folds of the anchor, dead whispers on the tip of my mind. I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath.

“So, Corypheus can jump bodies like an Archdemon,” I said.

“It appears so. I have not heard of any other blighted creatures accomplishing such a feat,” Morrigan responded.

“We already knew he could control the Calling. This is just more evidence that he more closely resembles an awaken Old God than a normal darkspawn.”

“It means he cannot die, which sort of puts a damper on our ‘take him down’ plan,” Dorian said.

“There must be a way. For now we must stop him from getting what he wants,” I responded.

“Indeed. I do wonder what this Well of Sorrows is, though.”

“Do you know, Morrigan?” I asked, deflecting Dorian’s unasked question.

“I do not,” she admitted.

“It seems confidence only gets one so far,” Solas remarked.

“And can you offer more, elf? I was wrong, I admit to it. Is there any point in dwelling on that fact? Whatever this Well may be, Corypheus seeks it, and thus we must keep it from his grasp.”

“Agreed,” I replied, sending Solas a look of warning. He nodded his head slightly, letting the argument drop.

I followed Morrigan, who had taken the point position without consulting us, to the center of the entryway. The main stone pillars still stood. They were crumbling but the text remained visible. I walked to them, one of the enchanted tiles glowing in my path.

I took a cursory glance at the pillar, but I already knew what it said: “Those who seek the blessings of Mythal, demonstrate now your devotion to the Mother. She, who has struck down the earth and made it bloom, calls you to her service. She, who has offered justice in the face of madness, welcomes you to her embrace. Enter the path of the Well of Sorrows and submit yourself to the sweet sacrifice of duty, pulled by the path that she walks for all eternity. In return you shall gain the thread that weaves the earth, the knowledge that opens the sky. Walk the path of the lonely to join the chorus of the many. Seek now her judgment.”

Morrigan stumbled into the words, sounding them out like a child. “It speaks of the path of the Well of Sorrows and acts of devotion one must perform to get there,” she explained, “The rest I cannot decipher. Perhaps we should attempt these rituals to gain access to the temple.”

“I do not like this, Inquisitor,” Cassandra said. “Performing even simple rituals for an unknown elven god does not seem right.”

“I understand your concern, Cassandra, but we do not have any other options at the moment,” I replied.

“You are...right.”

“Have any idea how they work then?” Dorian asked.

Morrigan answered, though the question had been directed at me. “‘Tis difficult to say. It seems when the Inquisitor walked on this tile a glyph was ignited. Perhaps we must light them all as such.”

“Agreed. I will do it. Everyone else please stand to the side.” They nodded, leaving the raised area where the pillars stood. I walked slowly, trying to make it seem like I was unsure, but I already knew how to perform the supplication. In fact, I could have entered without any formal rituals merely by tapping at the door with an ancient spell, but alas my part needed to be played, at least for now.

The glyphs lit up, the door behind us lighting up a brillant blue. “You have done it, Inquisitor!” Morrigan exclaimed. “Shall we see what resides in the remainder of the temple?”

I nodded, following her through the door. The Red Templars greeted us, Samson staring me down with his reddened eyes. They had blown a hole in the floor, which Samson jumped down into before yelling for the others to attack us.

I encompassed us in a barrier, stretching the Veil to incorporate all my allies. I threw up repulsion glyphs around the three mages, Cassandra running off to engage the enemy. She bellowed into the air, drawing in two of them.

The other three would not be deterred and made their way towards us. Morrigan trapped one in ice, his face becoming even more hideous as it twitched under the frost. Solas threw a sphere of stone at the frozen templar, shattering him into millions of pieces, but the other two continued their advance.

I shot a healing spell at Cassandra then threw a fireball at one of the templars descending upon us. He sneered, the flames singeing his armor and eating up the decorative cloth they wore. The fire threw him into a frenzy and he barreled towards us, only to be knocked back by one of the glyphs.

Dorian took advantage of the templar’s disorientation, striking him with a bolt of lightning. His metal armor conducted the electricity into his body, which spasmed grotesquely, the crystals formed on his back breaking where he fell.

Morrigan had left my circle of protection to help Cassandra, throwing spells of weakness at the templars attacking the warrior. A horror had joined the fray. I threw up some more glyphs to protect Dorian and Solas and Fade stepped to Morrigan’s side. I cast a rejuvenation spell on Cassandra, which licked away her wounds and leeched away her fatigue. She had managed to take down one of the templars, but the horror and lieutenant remained.

I banged my staff into the ground, cracking the ancient tiles. Three large vines shot out from the earth, looping their way past Cassandra to the horror. It threw up a lyrium wall, but the vines would not relent. They pierced through the wall, tearing at the monster until it shattered, crystals flying in every direction. The other templar tried to dodge the incoming red spears, but was thrown back when one hit him squarely in the chest. Cassandra descended on him immediately, stabbing her sword into his throat.

I looked over at the others. They had finished off the other templar as well. We had survived, for now.

I sheathed my staff, leading the others towards the hole the other Red Templars had used to escape but Morrigan stopped us before we could descend. “ _Hold! A moment_ ,” she said, blocking us from the fissure. “ _While they rush ahead, this leads to our true destination._ ” She motioned to the door behind us. “ _We should walk the petitioner’s path, as before_.”

“Which destination is that? The Well of Sorrows?”

She nodded shallowly, taking me aside. “ _There is...a danger to the natural order_ . _Legends walked Thedas once, things of might and wonder. Their passing has left us all the lesser_ . _Corypheus would squander the ancient power of the Well. I would have it restored_.”

“By using it yourself? Do you even know what it is?”

“ _I read more in the first chamber than I revealed. It said a great boon is given to those who use the Well of Sorrows...but at a terrible price._ ”

“And you would pay this price?”

“If the opportunity presented itself, I would.”

“Without knowing what it is you would sacrifice?”

“Some things are worth sacrificing to save what little we have left of the ancient world. It may be the opportunity does not present itself at all. For now let us decide which path we shall take. The rituals may offer us clues into the use of the Well, but it is your decision, Inquisitor.”

“Let us do these rituals then.”

I followed the rites, speeding through them in hopes of getting to Corypheus’s army as soon as possible. If the others noticed how easily I performed them, they did not mention it. I was surprised I had managed to avoid suspicion thus far in our travels.

After the rituals were finished, we made our way to the grand door, now glowing the familiar blue. I touched it, the lock opening, and walked into the room. The others followed cautiously. We were greeted by the emergence of shadowed warriors around us, bows pointed at our heads. Enasal stood where priestesses had once stood to speak to the followers of Mythal.

“ _Venavis_.” He glanced down at us, his eyes gliding curiously over Solas and then falling to me. His eyes widened. “Ma…” he began in the old tongue. I warned him with a wisp of magic. I could not be certain Morrigan did not pick up on the action, but I knew it went beyond Dorian’s knowledge at least. Enasal’s face remained confused but he did not speak further.

“I am called Sahlin. I lead the Inquisition troops that have come to your Temple. We have no wish to fight you. We are here to stop those who have defiled your temple.”

“Then the ones who awoke us are enemies of yours?” he asked in Common.

“Yes.”

“I see. _I am called Abelas. We are Sentinels, tasked with standing against those who trespass on sacred ground. We wake only to fight, to preserve this place. Our numbers diminish with each invasion._ You come here seeking the Vir’abelasan, as the shemlen who came before you.”

“‘ _The place of the Well of Sorrows.’ He speaks of the Well_!” Morrigan explained unnecessarily.

“ _It is_ not _for you_ ,” he sneered.

“I would not endeavor to take it from you, Abelas,” I replied, almost choking on his new name. I understood what the loss of Mythal meant better than most. Many of her subjects mourned her, but few truly knew her for who she was. Abelas was one of those few. He most likely knew her better than even Solas and me.

“Then you have not come to drink from it?” he asked. I thought I sensed a touch of disappointment in his voice.

“I have not. The Inquisition came merely to hinder the plans of Corypheus, the shemlen mage who leads the army of those who awoke you.”

“Be careful what you say, Inquisitor. _You must stop Corypheus, yes, but you may also need the Well for your own_ ,” Morrigan interjected.

“You want the Well for yourself!” Solas spat.

“You may believe that if you wish, but more importantly, it may aid us in defeating Corypheus. You saw how he took over the body of a Grey Warden, elf. The Well may offer us insight into stopping him.”

“Stop,” I commanded. “I’m sorry Morrigan, but the fate of the Vir’abelasan is in the hands of Abelas and the other Sentinels now. I would not take away their freedom to choose. It is their burden to bear, not mine.” I turned to Abelas. “Will you help us, or at least allow us to pass without more bloodshed?”

“If you wish to stop these shemlen invaders, we will assist you in defeating your enemies. _As for the Vir’abelasan...it shall not be despoiled, even if I must destroy it myself._ ”

“ _No!_ ” Morrigan called after him, turning into a raven and taking flight. I made to transform and fly after her, but Solas grabbed my hand. He shook his head, a reminder of the role we still had to play.

I nodded, and he released me. Another Sentinel walked to us, leaning heavily on her staff and carrying a leather-bound book of yellowing pages, one of the few from our time that I knew of. They must be tired of all this fighting, protecting things which should never have been forgotten.

“Mythal’enaste, sa’mirthadra,” she said, bowing her head. “Ara ghilana-mas Vir’abelasan.”

“Ma serannas, lethallin,” Solas responded in my stead, knowing the others would question my knowledge of the language if I spoke.

I had enjoyed visiting this temple before the infighting began. It was beautiful, the walls inlaid with elaborate gold murals depicting the trials of Mythal. Some showed her addressing her disciples, an elven woman with the headdress of a dragon. Others showed her as a dragon, commanding the skies. Others still depicted her as the hand of justice, striking down the enemies of the people with a righteous blade. Dorian made comments as we journeyed deeper into the temple but I ignored him, unwilling to trust myself not to divulge too much. Solas answered his questions, telling half-truths without even a pause. Such things had always been easier for him. He had earned his title of the Great Trickster of our people.

We walked for a time behind our guide until she bowed her head, motioning to the final door. We exited the back passages, killing the remaining Red Templars the Sentinels had not slain. The door opened to the inner sanctum, trees circling around the Well as they always had. Their roots had grown deep, feeding off the ancient magics, and they reached into the sky until they almost obscured the sun. I paused to look out over the precipice.

“Mythal suledin,” Solas whispered, standing to my right. “Ma melava venavis elgar din’an, vhenan.”

“What did you say, Solas? My Elvish is a bit rusty.” Dorian asked.

“An ancient prayer, long since forgotten by the people of this age,” he lied.

“I didn’t know you prayed,” Dorian remarked.

“In this place it is best to respect the old customs. Now is not the time to discuss this, however. I see Samson below us.”

I nodded, shoving away my fears and leading the way down the stairs for yet another fight.

 

Samson fell, his threat to the Inquisition vanishing. We would put him on trial, a judgment left for the confines of Skyhold, but for now he was a problem for another day. I looked over as the stone stairwell leading to the Well lifted up, opening the inner sanctum to Abelas. Abelas ran up them with us hot on his heels, Morrigan flying over his head and stopping him in his tracks.

He stood pinned between us, glancing from one to the other. “ _You heard his parting words, Inquisitor. The elf seeks to destroy the Well of Sorrows!”_

I ignored her, moving out of the pincer position to give Abelas some space. “ _So the sanctum is despoiled at last_ ,” he said in Common.

“I am sorry that it has come to this, Abelas.”

“ _Better it be lost than bestowed upon the undeserving_ ,” he commented.

“ _Fool! You’d let your people’s legacy rot in the shadows!_ ”

“Morrigan, we have accomplished our goal. If Abelas choses to destroy the Well to keep it from Corypheus that is his decision. He has earned the right to follow his own council.”

“ _The Well clearly offers power, Inquisitor. If that power can be turned against Corypheus, can you afford not to use it?_ ”

“What if that power comes with great cost, Morrigan? Would you still so readily accept it?”

“And who can say what cost that might be? Does it even matter? We need to defeat Corypheus, and the Well may offer us knowledge required to do so.”

“It might, or it might not. You cannot know for sure.”

She made no retort so Abelas took a moment to speak. “ _All that we were, all that we knew, it would be lost forever._ ”

“Perhaps not all,” I offered.

“ _There are other places, friend, other duties. Your people yet linger,_ ” Solas pleaded. Seeing the sentinels like this must have hurt him even more than it hurt me.

“ _Elvhen such as you?”_ Abelas asked.

“ _Yes. Such as I_ ,” he replied simply.

Abelas weighed that news in his mind momentarily, gazing at the Well. He turned to me, eyes sad.  “What it is you wish then? You do not wish to drink from it but would you have this shemlen do so in your place?”

“I...yes, it cannot be lost. It may be that some of what the Elvhen were can be preserved.”

“Very well.” He turned to Morrigan. “ _Brave it if you must, but know you this: you shall be bound forever to the will of Mythal._ ”

“ _Bound? To a goddess who no longer exists, if she ever did?_ ” Morrigan asked.

“ _Bound, as we are bound. The choice is yours._ ”

“Have you seen any evidence that Mythal still inhabits this world?” I asked.

“ _The Vir’abelasan remains. As do we. That is something._ ”

“Yes, I suppose it is. Where will you go now?”

“I cannot say. Perhaps it is only uthenera that awaits us, but that too is an end I would not mourn.”

“ _There is a place for you, lethallin...if you seek it_ ,” Solas offered.

“ _Perhaps there are places the shemlen have not touched_.”

Abelas bowed his head shallowly to me, then turned to go. He turned when Solas addressed him. “ _Malas amelin ne halam, Abelas_.” Abelas nodded, leaving the sanctum for the last time. I hoped I would see him.

“ _I did not expect the Well to feel so...hungry_ ,” Morrigan commented as she drew her hand over it.

“Are you certain this is what you want? You cannot know what it will do to you. What about your son?”

“Kieran will...be alright. He is a strong lad. This is what I want, Inquisitor.”

“Very well. It is yours.”

She walked into the water with a smile on her face. It upset me that it was not one of the people who took this gift, but I would not submit myself to its geas. I already knew everything I wanted to know of that time. Sometimes I wished I could forget. Perhaps if Mythal did still reside somewhere in this world she could offer us insight into Corypheus. Unfortunately that meant Morrigan would gain access to a great deal. I only hoped she would not realize my true identity.

She dunked herself in, immersing herself in the voices of so many. What was it like to have so many people inside one mind? The disciples of Mythal I had known in my time had learned to control them, learned to pull at the threads until only the voice they sought would speak, but Morrigan had no such training. Perhaps she could hear nothing at all.

The water disappeared as she looked up at us, grasping her head. _“Ellasin selah! Vissan...Vissanalla…_ ” she said.

“How do you feel?” I asked.

“ _I...I am intact. There is much to sift through...but now we can_ -” She was interrupted by the lingering voices of the Well. I could hear them, just ask Morrigan no doubt could as well.

“Beware. He is coming,” they said in Elvhen. Morrigan glanced around, looking for the source. I pointed to the balcony. Corypheus was coming. He let out a cry of anger as he took flight towards our location. We ran through the eluvian as the Well came to life. A spirit in the shape of an elvhen woman emerged, keeping Corypheus at bay long enough for us to make our escape. At last, I came through to Belshiralan, the mirror shattering in our wake.

I looked around at my companions. Cassandra had her hand to her eyes, squinting around in evident discomfort. Dorian looked like he would vomit.

“Are you all right?” I asked them. Dorian glanced up at me, shielding his eyes.

“My head feels rather like it might crack in two any moment. Don’t tell me you feel fine.”

“I do…”

“It is the Crossroads, Inquisitor. They are not hospitable to those who are not elven. It is as if the ancient elves designed them to ward off unwanted trespassers,” Morrigan explained.

“Why are you fine then?” I asked her.

“You forget I spent a great deal of time here. I have learned to ignore the unpleasant sensations. I am not immune to them, however.”

“Then we should proceed.”

“Indeed. The eluvian I placed in Skyhold should be this direction.” She pointed the way. Once the others had collected themselves, we followed her. Soon, however, Solas and I had overtaken her without noticing it. I looked back and saw them in the distance, remarkably far away.

“It allows us to move faster, too?” I asked Solas in Elvhen.

“It appears so. I am uncertain any humans ever entered Belshiralan in the time of Arlathan, although it is logical they would find it unpleasant. This place was not designed to accommodate them.”

“Are you upset with me Solas?”

He looked genuinely surprised. “No. Why would I be?”

“I allowed a shemlen to drink from the Vir’abelasan. Not just any shemlen either but one who haughtily believes she knows so much when she understands so little.”

“There was no other choice. Besides, perhaps she will be able to contact whatever is left of Mythal.”

“You felt her presence there as well?”

“I did. There may be hope for her yet.”

I nodded, smiling softly. “Perhaps there is.” We had arrived at the eluvian by now and the others were getting closer. I dared not speak further in the elder tongue. I slipped into Common. “What do you think Corypheus will do now?” I asked.

Solas made the transition as well. “He has lost his armies. He must be furious, and that fury will lead him to make tactical mistakes. It is only a matter of time before he attacks you at your stronghold.”

“Do you think the Inquisition can withstand that?”

“Not without assistance, no. We must discover the cause of his apparent immortality.”

I nodded. Morrigan had caught up with us, followed closely by the others. Dorian shot Solas and me a look of disdain as Morrigan activated the eluvian. We went through, returning to the home we had created for ourselves. Morrigan begged her leave, stating she needed time to sort through the voices. Cassandra and Dorian excused themselves as well, both looking dreadful. Solas, however, followed me back to my quarters. He opened the door for me, a question on his face.

“Stay with me tonight, please. I don’t want to be alone.” He nodded, smiling solemnly. He followed me into the room, lighting the fireplace with a flick of his wrist. I collapsed into one of the chairs, my head falling into my hands. I was so exhausted. I was just so tired of it all.

Solas came to my feet, gently undoing the clasps on my boots. He undressed me slowly, but there was no fire in his eyes tonight. This was the time for love, not lust. He raised me up and led me to a bath I had not seen him fill. He washed me clean of the trauma of the day, pulling a simple nightgown over my head. He changed as well, and I wondered briefly where he had stashed a change of clothes in my room. Finally we crawled into bed, and I buried my head in his shoulder. The tears came then, powerful and ceaseless. I cried for what we had lost. I cried for what we had left. I just cried. Solas stroked my hair patiently, saying nothing, until I drifted off into the Fade.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title is taken from The Tale of Mythal’s Touch as told by Gisharel, keeper of the Ralaferin clan of Dalish elves
> 
> Sethlen lathbora viran. Ma garas atishan, en mir lin ghilas haminan. = The fragile children long for something they can never understand. Come to a place of peace, allow your blood to rest.  
> Vir’suledin melava him felas din’an. Mir elgar nuvenas ghilan. Tel’haminan iras var abelshiral halam. = Enduring this path has become a slow death. My spirit needs guidance. There is no rest where our sorrowful journey ends.  
> Mythal’enaste, sa’mirthadra. Ara ghilana-mas Vir’abelasan. = Mythal's blessing to you, honored one. I will guide you to the Well of Sorrows.  
> Mythal suledin. Ma melava venavis elgar din’an, vhenan. = Mythal endures. You did stop the death of her spirit, heart.
> 
> "Malas amelin ne halam, Abelas" is said by Solas in game, which he translates to "I hope you find a new name". I would translate it as "Your(pl) blood oath/service/name has ended, Abelas." In other words, with the Well no longer there the Sentinels are free to find a purpose beyond living in the sorrow of Mythal's loss, watching over her temple forever.
> 
> A note on Abelas's created name: Enasal means “joy in triumph over loss or joyful relief.” In the game, the author of Untranslatable Elven Writing decides to “only be known by the sorrow that cuts my[his/her] heart.” Presumably this is a reference to Abelas, who takes that name after Mythal disappears to represent his sorrow at her loss. According to the text, the author also changed his/her name when s/he entered Mythal’s service. Assuming this is Abelas, presumably Mythal did something for him that made him respect her enough to enter her service and willingly relinquish his name as he seems to truly care for her. I thought “enasal” would encompass that sentiment.


	18. Ma garas mir renan, ara ma’athlan vhenas

I awoke to the sound of ancient music running through my mind. It was familiar, like a rhythm that had always lived in my veins. It got louder until I realized what it was. I sat up abruptly, waking Solas from his slumber beside me.

“Isala?” he asked, squinting up at me.

I did not answer right away, allowing the song to fill me to the brim. It was so beautiful. “She is calling for me.”

Solas sat up as well, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “Who?”

“My mother. She is beyond the Veil.”

“Then she yet lives?”

“Yes.”

He smiled. “I am glad to hear it. Shall I accompany you?”

I nodded, rising from the bed. We dressed in silence as I let her call flow through me. Once dressed, we headed out into the fortress. It would still be night for a few more hours. The guards stationed around Skyhold gave us skeptical looks until they saw me. Solas followed me into the garden as I wove in and out of the shrubs, making my way to the room with the eluvian. I checked for any wards Morrigan might have left, dispelling them easily, then slipped through the door. There it stood, a towering and activated eluvian.

I entered the eluvian, followed closely by Solas. It was not Belshiralan that opened up before us but the Fade. The Black City stretched above me, a memory of a broken attempt to stem a tidal wave. Solas saw it as well but he made no comment. He was merely an observer, a companion in this endeavor. He still lacked the power to enter this place physically himself, but the way he broke into an easy stride beside me spoke volumes of his intimacy with it. I reached for his hand, and he laced his fingers in mine, drawing comforting circles in my palm with his thumb.

She was waiting for us a bit deeper into the Fade: an old woman dressed as one much younger. She wore the headdress I remembered but her face was different. She was...human? Solas squeezed my hand, releasing it. “It is no trick, vhenan. Can you sense her there beneath the unfamiliar shemlen face?”

I closed my eyes. I felt the warmth radiating off her. Familiar, comforting. Motherly. I opened my eyes, a rebellious tear leaking out of my eye. She opened her arms to me and I ran to her. She encompassed me in the arms of a human but her aura felt elvhen. She was my mother.

“I see the Dread Wolf still stalks your steps, da’len .”

Solas chuckled. “We all must do as our natures demand, old friend.”

The woman released me from her arms, laughing unreservedly. “That we must.” She looked down to me now. “It lightens my heart to see you, Isala.”

Her voice was familiar, but not only because it carried a hint of my mother. There was another reason. “That was your voice. When I was in danger after Haven and at Adamant it was you who spoke to me, told me not to give up.”

“It is good to see the ages have not diminished your cleverness, child.”

“Ma serannas, Mamae.”

“Don’t thank me yet. You still have a part to play in this dance of ours.”

“And when the time comes will I know the right steps?”

She chuckled. “Only time will tell. As for the old crone I am now, you may call me Flemeth.”

“The Witch of the Wilds?”

She smiled. “You have heard the stories then, have you? Men create many such stories to explain things they cannot understand. _Once I was but a woman, crying out in the lonely darkness for justice. And she came to me, a wisp of an ancient being, and granted me all I wanted and more. I have carried Mythal through the ages ever since, seeking the justice denied to her_.”

I looked down at my hands, tears forming anew. “It was my fault. I’m so sorry. I should have been the one to die. I...”

She placed her hand on my cheek, catching my tears. “Hush, child. Any mother would lay down her life to protect her child without any regrets. It was never you who was to blame. There will come a day when a reckoning will shake the very heavens, and then the real culprits shall feel the blade of justice. _Mythal clawed and crawled her way through the ages to me, and I will see her avenged_ !” She paused, sighing slightly. “ _Alas, as long as the music plays, we dance_.”

Another person was approaching from the direction of the eluvian. It was not a spirit, but something else very old. Morrigan’s son came into focus as he walked towards Flemeth and me. Another fly caught in her web, then. My mother did so love to spin the web of time around her. “Our other guest finally arrives. Welcome, lad,” she greeted him.

I noticed Solas had left us. Whether he had gone to explore the Fade further or returned to the world of humans I could not say, but I appreciated he was giving me time to be with the fragment left of my mother. He was still too weak to remove the Veil yet but he undoubtedly missed this world.

Kieran came to Flemeth’s outstretched hand, and I finally understood. “He holds the soul of the one the shemlen call Urthemiel.”

“Indeed he does. He is also my grandson.”

“Morrigan is your daughter?”

Flemeth nodded. “This is quite the family reunion, is it not?” she remarked.

Kieran spoke now to Flemeth, looking at me briefly. “The Inquisitor is not like the others. She remembers the time when the songs all sang the same.” So this was my...nephew? A human nephew was something I never expected to find.

“You are right, she is not like them,” Flemeth replied.

“Is it time to go now?” he asked.

She smiled at the boy. “Yes.”

Flemeth held her hand out to the boy for him to take. He took it, looking back towards the eluvian with a sad expression on his face. Morrigan was approaching, a look of shock evident on her face.

“ _Mother_!” Kieran exclaimed as she came closer, releasing Flemeth’s hand.

Morrigan looked furious. “ _Mother_.”

Flemeth turned to the new arrival. “ _Now isn’t this a surprise_?”

“ _Kieran is_ not _your grandson. Let him go_!” Morrigan shouted. She looked at me questioningly but did not ask why I was there. Kieran was her priority right now.

Flemeth scoffed. “ _As if I were holding the boy hostage_.” She turned to me, smirking. “ _She’s always been ungrateful, you see_.”

“ _Ungrateful? I know how you plan to extend your life, wicked crone! You will not have me, and you will not have my son_!” Mana collected in Morrigan’s hands. There was no way she could defeat the mask of Mythal in the Fade, especially acting as her vessel.

“ _That’s quite enough. You’ll endanger the boy_.” The geas took hold and Morrigan’s power vanished from her fingertips.

“ _What have you done to me_?” Morrigan asked, looking down at her fingers in frustration.

“She has do nothing, Morrigan. You drank from the Well of Sorrows,” I explained.

Morrigan turned to me. “Why are you here, Inquisitor? Do you follow Flemeth’s wishes as well now?”

Flemeth interceded. “I called her here, just as I called the boy. It is not the Inquisitor’s fault for heeding the summons of one called an elven goddess.”

This seemed to satisfy Morrigan for the moment. “Then you...are Mythal.” It was not a question. Flemeth released her grandson and he embraced Morrigan, apologizing for leaving. “ _I do not understand_ ,” she concluded.

“ _You hear the voices of the Well, girl. What do they say_?”

“ _They...say you speak the truth. Then you follow her whims? Do you even know what she truly is_?”

“ _You seek to preserve the powers that were, but to what end? It is because I taught you, girl, because things happened that were never meant to happen. She was betrayed as I was betrayed - as the world was betrayed!_ ”

“And you will help us against Corypheus?” Morrigan’s voice sounded shaken.

“ _Once I have what I came for_.” She turned to Kieran. The shakiness immediately left Morrigan’s tone.

“ _No. I will not allow it_.”

“ _He carries a piece of what once was, snatched from the jaws of darkness. You know this_.”

 _“He is not your pawn, Mother. I will not let you use him_!”

 _“Have you not used him? Was that not your purpose, the reason you agreed to his creation_?”

 _“That was then. Now he...he is my_ son.” Surprise flitted across Flemeth’s face. “ _Flemeth extends her life by possessing the bodies of her daughters_ , Sahlin. _That was the fate she intended for me. I thwarted her, and now she intends to have Kieran instead_!”

Morrigan truly did not understand her mother, our mother, at all. The soul of my mother would have passed on to Morrigan, as would her never-ending lust for retribution. Perhaps it was not the kindest fate, but we cannot always escape what destiny has planned for us. At least, that is what Mythal had always taught me.

Kieran finally spoke. “ _Mother, I have to_.” He sounded sad, dejected.

“ _You do not belong to her, Kieran. Neither of us do_!” Morrigan collapsed onto the ground. “ _Kieran, I_ …”

Kieran turned to Flemeth, an unspoken pleading in his eyes. She smiled at her grandson, turning to Morrigan.

“ _As you wish. Hear my proposal, dear girl. Let me take the lad, and you are free of me forever. I will never interfere with or harm you again. Or, keep the lad with you...and you will never be safe from me. I will have my due_.”

It was a test, perhaps. It seemed the interference of Flemeth on my mother’s personality made it more challenging to understand her motivations. Had her second soul taken over her so completely?

Morrigan’s response was immediate. “ _He returns with me_.”

“ _Decided so quickly_?”

“ _Do whatever you wish. Take over my body now, if you must, but Kieran will be free of your clutches. I am many things, but I will not be the mother you were to me_.”

Flemeth’s face broke in heartbreak. I wanted to console her, but this family was not mine, not really. This was Flemeth’s family, not Mythal’s. I was merely an onlooker, a stranger who had too much skin in the game.

She turned to Kieran, taking his hands in her own. The old god soul left him easily, embedding itself into Flemeth’s chest. So many souls in one body. How could I distinguish my mother from the others?

“ _No more dreams_?” he asked.

“ _No more dreams_.” He smiled at his grandmother and returned to Morrigan. “ _A soul is not forced upon the unwilling, Morrigan. You were never in danger from me. Listen to the voices. They will teach you...as I never did_.”

She turned to me, smiling sadly. “As for you, Inquisitor. There comes a time when we all stand on the precipice of a decision and must plunge into the darkness alone. I hope you will forgive me when that time comes. Tel’enfenim banal’ras, mir len. Telanadas.”

She walked away from us, Morrigan calling after her. I watched as the wisp of my mother walked away, feeling empty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title taken from Mir Da’len Somniar, a Dalish lullaby, translated as "follow my voice, I will call you home"
> 
> Ma serannas, Mamae. = Thank you, Mother.  
> Tel’enfenim banal’ras, mir len. Telanadas. = Do not fear the Void, my child. Nothing is inevitable.
> 
> Italicized quotations are taken from the game's dialogue.


End file.
